,,,^/***%@ @%***/^,,,
,^»/*%#@@# #@@#%*/»^,
,^»/*%#@@@ @@@#%*/»^,
,^»/*%%%%@ @%%%%*/»^,
,,,,»**%%@ @%%**»,,,,
,^»/*%#@@# % 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. @@##%*/»^,
,^»/*%#@## ##@#%*/»^,
,,,,,,^»*# #*»^,,,,,,
,^»/*%#@@@ @@@#%*/»^,
,^»/*%#@## ##@#%*/»^,
,^»/*%#@@# #@@#%*/»^,
,,,,,^/%%# #%%/^,,,,,