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.