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.