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@@#=«-,,,, £ 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)) ,-«*=£#@##
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##@#£=*«-, 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. ,,--««**£#
##@#£=*«-, ,-«*=£#@##
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##@#£=*«-, ,-«*=£#@##
##@#£=*«-, 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. ,,,-***=##
#££=««-,,, ,,,-««=££#
##@#£=*«-, @ ,-«*=£#@##
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##@#£=*«-, 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. ,-«*=£#@##
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##£=««-,,, 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. ,,,,,«*£##
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