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.