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.