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.