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.