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.