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.