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.