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.