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.