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.