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.