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.