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.