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.