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.