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.