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.