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.