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.