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.