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.