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.