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.