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.