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.