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.