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.