%^:»^,,,,, ,,,,,^»:^%
@%^:»^,,,, ,,,,^»:^%@
#@%^:»^,,, ,,,^»:^%@#
##@%^:»^,, ,,^»:^%@##
###@%^:»^, ,^»:^%@###
##@%^:»^,, % 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. ,,,,,^»:^%
^:»^,,,,,, ,,,,,,^»:^
%^:»^,,,,, ,,,,,^»:^%
@%^:»^,,,, ,,,,^»:^%@
#@%^:»^,,, ,,,^»:^%@#
##@%^:»^,, ,,^»:^%@##
###@%^:»^, ,^»:^%@###