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†:-:,,,,,, % 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. ,,,:-:†%#¶
#¶#%†:-:,, ,,:-:†%#¶#
##¶#%†:-:, ,:-:†%#¶##
#¶#%†:-:,, ,,:-:†%#¶#
¶#%†:-:,,, ,,,:-:†%#¶
#%†:-:,,,, ,,,,:-:†%#
%†:-:,,,,, ,,,,,:-:†%