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.