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.