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.