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.