§%*^«^,,,, ,,,,^«^*%§
%*^«^,,,,, ,,,,,^«^*%
§%*^«^,,,, ,,,,^«^*%§
@§%*^«^,,, ,,,^«^*%§@
#@§%*^«^,, ,,^«^*%§@#
##@§%*^«^, % 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. ,,^«^*%§@#
@§%*^«^,,, ,,,^«^*%§@
§%*^«^,,,, ,,,,^«^*%§
%*^«^,,,,, ,,,,,^«^*%
§%*^«^,,,, ,,,,^«^*%§
@§%*^«^,,, ,,,^«^*%§@
#@§%*^«^,, ,,^«^*%§@#