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.