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.