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.