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.