,,~;%%¤@## ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# % dream palace % #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## , ----- ------ , ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# % ..... ...... % #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## ; ..... ...... ; ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# , ..... ...... , #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## , ..... ...... , ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# , ..... ...... , #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## 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. ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## ##@¤%%;~,,
,,,~;%%¤@# #@¤%%;~,,,
,,~;%%¤@## ##@¤%%;~,,