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.