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.