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.