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.