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.