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.