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.