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.