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.