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.