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.