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.