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.