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.