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.