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.