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@@@%†\-,,, % 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)) ,,,-\†%@@@
#@@@%†\-,, ,,-\†%@@@#
@@@%†\-,,, - ,,,-\†%@@@
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@%†\-,,,,, 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. ,,,,,,,-\†
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†\-,,,,,,, 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. ,,,,,-\†%@
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†\-,,,,,,, @ ,,,,,,,-\†
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-,,,,,,,,, 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. ,,,,,,-\†%
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\-,,,,,,,, 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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