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.