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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. ,,,,,,.«;*
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«.,,,,,,,, % ,,,,,,,,.«
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,,,,,,,,,, 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. ,,,,,,,.«;
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.,,,,,,,,, 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. ,.«;*§#@##
#@#§*;«.,, ,,.«;*§#@#
@#§*;«.,,, ,,,.«;*§#@
#§*;«.,,,, ,,,,.«;*§#
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