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.