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.