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.