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.