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.