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.