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.