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.