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.