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.