####%%†»^, ,^»†%%####
#%††^,,,,, ,,,,,^††%#
##¶#%%†»^, ,^»†%%#¶##
#¶%†»,,,,, ,,,,,»†%¶#
##¶#%%†»^, ,^»†%%#¶##
##%†»^^,,, % 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. ,^»†%%#¶##
#%†»»,,,,, ,,,,,»»†%#
#%%%»»,,,, ,,,,»»%%%#
##¶#%%†»^, ,^»†%%#¶##
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