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.