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.