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.