#@¶@&^†»., ,.»†^&@¶@#
@@&†.,,,,, ,,,,,.†&@@
##@@&^†»., ,.»†^&@@##
@¶¶@&^†»., ,.»†^&@¶¶@
#@¶@&^†»., ,.»†^&@¶@#
#@¶@&^†»., & 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. ,,,,,,.†^@
@&††.,,,,, ,,,,,.††&@
@^^^»..,,, ,,,..»^^^@
@¶&^»»»»., ,.»»»»^&¶@
@@¶@&^†»., ,.»†^&@¶@@
@&††....,, ,,....††&@
##@@&^†»., ,.»†^&@@##