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.