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.