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.