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.