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¤¤¤¤:::,,, ¤ 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)) ,,::»»:†¤¤
###¶¤†:»:, ,:»:†¤¶###
##¶¤¤†:»:, » ,:»:†¤¤¶##
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##¶¤¤†:»:, 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. ,:»:††¤¤¤#
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##¶¤¤†:»:, 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. ,,:»:††¤¤#
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¤¤¤†»:,,,, ¤ ,,,,:»†¤¤¤
¶¶¤†:»»:,, ,,:»»:†¤¶¶
###¤¤†:»:, 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. ,:»:†¤¤¶##
###¤¤†:»:, ,:»:†¤¤###
#¶¤¤¤†:»:, ¶ ,:»:†¤¤¤¶#
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##¶¤¤†:»:, 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. ,:»:†¤¤¶##
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###¶¤†:»:, 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. ,,,:::»†¤#
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