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.