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.