#@£@%^†-,, ,,-†^%@£@#
£%†-,,,,,, ,,,,,,-†%£
£@%^†-,,,, ,,,,-†^%@£
##@£@%^-,, ,,-^%@£@##
@@^^†,,,,, ,,,,,†^^@@
##£@%^†-,, % dream palace % ,,-†^%@£##
@%†--,,,,, , ----- ------ , ,,,,,--†%@
@^††--,,,, % ..... ...... % ,,,,--††^@
#@£@%^†-,, † ..... ...... † ,,-†^%@£@#
£%%^^--,,, , ..... ...... , ,,,--^^%%£
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#@£@%^†-,, , ..... ...... , ,,-†^%@£@#
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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. ,,-†^%@£££
@@£@%^†-,, ,,-†^%@£@@
##@@%^†-,, ,,-†^%@@##
#@£@%^†-,, ,,-†^%@£@#
#@£@%^†-,, ,,-†^%@£@#
@@@@%^†-,, ,,-†^%@@@@
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