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.