Welcome to the Shroomery Message Board! You are experiencing a small sample of what the site has to offer. Please login or register to post messages and view our exclusive members-only content. You'll gain access to additional forums, file attachments, board customizations, encrypted private messages, and much more!
"Your soul longs for something out there. Daily you're looking for it and seeing where it's at. Your old tabernacle, your aches and groans and squeaks, and, oh, my, as the old birth pains are coming upon it... That's right. What does it mean? This old lump of clay someday's going to fade away. But there's something inside of that little lump of clay there that's trying to get out, trying to liberate itself.
Oh, what is it? It's the little bird called the soul. And the only way it can free itself, one morning the clay will break away, and we'll drop and rise, and ever seize the everlasting prize,
when the soul goes to meet its Lover, yonder, with both arms out. The only thing that's keeping you here is this little old racklety bunch of clay."
Interesting thing is, I heard this from a little man who grew up in the boonies and was extremely uneducated and as far as I know, never touched a pc. These were his exact words and this is how he chose to describe it.