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.