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.