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.