Someone is standing at the foot of the greatest dam ever built by man-kind on a clear and sunny day.

It towers before them rising seemingly endlessly into the sky.

They look up.

They look down at their Velcro shoes and kick some gravel.
The sound reflects off of the massive wall before them and it's the only thing that can be heard down here.
Sometimes a news caster can be heard whispering through the pipes every so often. It's never good news.

Everything around them is concrete and created.
It's no surprise they're out of touch with all that is real.
That's pretty much a prerequisite for any clone working the site.

A crack begins to form and moves like lightning toward the top.
A new yet primal fear begins to rise within.
Before he can even make the decision to run or decide where he would even run to the flood gates have been breached.
The sheer power of the water pummeling him is enough to make him think he is going to die.
And he almost does.
Black out.

He wakes up coughing up water and takes a look around coming to in a haze of deep hyperventilated breathing.
Here by the river the fruit trees grow and there are deer stopping by to drink from it too. They look over at him in hesitant understanding.
Destroy to recreate has never made more sense.
No turning back.

Do it now.

I am dead serious:
Users of DMT must not succumb to hoarders syndrome!

OK so you've extracted spice, you've passed the right of passage. Excellent. You purified it too, right?
You've gone through your honeymoon and all that jazz.
Now it sits in a dark corner of a drawer. Your sacred little hyperkey. You await the call like some kind of rogue lover.
She's not calling, bro.
You speak of it enigmatically and people are simultaneously attracted and repelled in fear.
Or maybe you don't speak about it at all.
Have you buried it in the past?
Mastered it at long last?

What's keeping you from showering in the light?

What reasons could eclipse the obvious vitality that ensues from becoming this?

What good does DMT do sitting in a dark drawer?

Fear was like a fire that escaped from the stained glass lantern of the hearts tremulant cathedral. It made it seem like it was lighting the way, but it was burning everything we had left.

Nice one Soothsayer. I see the thread is working as planned. I am rubbing my palms together at the notion.



I am dead serious:
Users of DMT must not succumb to hoarders syndrome!

OK so you've extracted spice, you've passed the right of passage. Excellent. You purified it too, right?
You've gone through your honeymoon and all that jazz.
Now it sits in a dark corner of a drawer. Your sacred little hyperkey. You await the call like some kind of rogue lover.
She's not calling, bro.
You speak of it enigmatically and people are simultaneously attracted and repelled in fear.
Or maybe you don't speak about it at all.
Have you buried it in the past?
Mastered it at long last?

What's keeping you from showering in the light?

What reasons could eclipse the obvious vitality that ensues from becoming this?

What good does DMT do sitting in a dark drawer?

I am not convinced, people.
The world is not doing enough DMT.
The quota is being missed by a long shot.


I believe it is our responsibility that once we've reached our own apex of understanding there's only two things left-
and that's making sure every seeker within our reach has the means to make this happen themselves whatever that entails,
and making sure that we really, truly, remember. And remember- there are some things that just can not be remembered, only experienced.
Responsibility is a rhythm, not an event. The further we stray from the source and rely on memory the higher the chance of corruption.

How dare you? How dare you so blatantly tell people to take this mind-ALTERING substance called DMT? It's the most horrible thing that can ever happen to anyone. What gives you the right to command people to lose their innocence and destroy their lives? You mental pervert, parasitic seed planter, mass producing insanity, eh? What gives you the right to TALK about ANYTHING at ALL?

Thank you so much for this thread. This needs to be said, it needs to be talked about, the people are ready. Everyone needs to experience this mind-BLOWING thing called DMT, and they need to experience it NOW because there's no better time and there never will be a better time. It's the best damn experience that can happen to anyone, it will WAKE you UP and make you aware of all the beauty around you all the time. Everyone needs to rise up from the fog, it's so crystal clear and colorful up here. I salute you and your much needed enthusiasm my good sir.

Goddamn you hippies with your self-importance and your agendas. I'm sick and tired of hearing about souls and gods and dimensions and aliens and all that CRAP. This is exactly why I can't come here anymore, it was making too much sense. NONSENSE. It turned sour, everywhere I look I see INSANITY, INSANITY, INSANITY, poetry, INSANITY. Then when I check back again I see a thread like this.. Oh lord give me the strength. You little hipster cunts. Let's spread the word and turn everyone insane so that being sane won't be so mainstream anymore.

I love every single one of you. There are no ugly or stupid people, everyone is beautiful because everyone is unique. And here the beauty is expressed more than anywhere else because you all have seen the unimaginable, the patternless source that makes all patterns. I haven't had any time lately but I miss this place a lot, I miss the love that gets recycled here, from one person to the next, none of it gets wasted. I keep all the love I received from here in a wooden little chest next to my heart, like old souvenirs and photographs that make your knees weak.

What's the point, it's all too late now. DMT gave birth to the monster in my head. Communities like this unchained that monster. Blame, blame, blame, pointless like sending lightning bolts at the mirror. But I'm not the monster, it's not me, it just controls my helpless ragdoll body, it screams at me, controls my train of thought on every single trivial subject. "What a delicious steak." "Hmm, it's in front of me because someone killed an animal." "That animal evolved to that form on this planet." "This planet was formed in the chaos of the early universe." "The early universe came from the big bang." "The big bang came from-- ???? BANG BANG BANG BANG bzzzzzzzzt BANG BANG BANG bzrttrr .... NO SHUT UP, SHUT YOUR DIRTY LITTLE MONSTER MOUTH

This is the greatest adventure anyone could have hoped to be a part of and it just gets more exciting after you discover DMT, after you discover like-minded people. DMT unlocks the angelic choir in your head, and communities like this let you express it, in any way you want. I could never repay all of you for all the things I have learned and unlearned here, all I can say is thank you. There is no blame in here, no shame. Here nobody is insane. Because let's face it, we're all the same, we're all controlling these biomechanic agents that have sensory input and motoric output, while some mystical processing happens between those. Now, extend out your arm, and realize that you're CONTROLLING a THING and that you can do ANYTHING you WANT with it. Now get to it.

This is so fucking cool.

OK so you've extracted spice, you've passed the right of passage. Excellent. You purified it too, right?
You've gone through your honeymoon and all that jazz.
Now it sits in a dark corner of a drawer. Your sacred little hyperkey. You await the call like some kind of rogue lover.
She's not calling, bro.
You speak of it enigmatically and people are simultaneously attracted and repelled in fear.
Or maybe you don't speak about it at all.
Have you buried it in the past?
Mastered it at long last?

What's keeping you from showering in the light?

What reasons could eclipse the obvious vitality that ensues from becoming this?

What good does DMT do sitting in a dark drawer?