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.