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.