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.