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.