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.