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.