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.