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.