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.