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.