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.