dream palace              
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 not actually  a palace. a cottage in the 
   woods (temperate climate, rains every  
 other   day,  springs  and  streams  and 
   mysterious iron and stone artifacts,   
     birdland-ish eternal spring (late    
                 spring))                 
                                          
                                         
                                          
 i wake up every morning at six am.  it's 
 dark,  and the stars  are  out,  but the 
 sun is  about to rise.  its a long  day, 
 before  it  fades  to  night again,  and 
 then it stays  so until  i fall  asleep. 
 it  doesn't  rise  unless  i've  had  my 
                  dreams.                 
                                          
                                         
                                          
 in  this cottage there's  a lot of radio 
   equipment, sound stuff, synths, tape   
 players. pen and paper,  books, cameras, 
 mirrors,  prisms, and  various things to 
 do art  with. the  fridge is filled with 
 differet foods, all  of them intriguing, 
             slightly weird.              
                                          
                                         
                                          
 i have  friends - there's  a cat,  and a 
 dog   (who  is  ridicolously  large  and 
 wants to be  the big spoon). i listen to 
 the shortwave radio, and  transmit a bit 
 myself,  songs  and  poetry,  and  found 
 sounds from the forest.  the others tell 
 of  their lives, play the guitar for me, 
 and  tell  tales of  the  old  world.  i 
      consider them friends as well.      
                                          
                                         
                                          
 most importantly, there's  a  two square 
 meter area  on the  floor  where  i  can 
 "save" things.  whatever i  put in  here 
 will  not  be affected  by  the  nightly 
   reset. everything else, however, is    
    completely reset overnight: synth     
   patches removed, food uneaten, wounds  
 healed,  and wherever  and  whenever i'd 
 fall  asleep  i'd always  wake  up fully 
 rested  in  my  bed.  sometimes  there's 
 accidents   where   i   lose  stuff   by 
 forgetting to put them  in  the  square. 
                                          
                                         
                                          
 at  night,  i  have   demi-lucid  dreams 
 where the spirits  of  the forest around 
 the cottage tries to communicate.  here, 
 it's  not  endless  but  connected  to a 
 large sprawling  city,  where  my  radio 
 friends live. we go  exploring  together 
 -  things are deep and dark - but unlike 
 me, they never remember during  the day. 
 this  is a  mystery  we  often  discuss.