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.