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.