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.