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.