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.