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.