ONCE upon a grassy land, first they came up, McSmushall of the Cattele, in their riddlesneck's contrivance into bone and flesh, wearing of the Blueviolet. Cogan, for the key of the field fore it was foresent, was rousing with the thirst of the sacred spongle, the crux of the matter, O spirit, like the Nap O' the moor. In other words, was that how in the curse of things, their subtle angelic lovestory finisteread started? Language this for the marshlands ambiviolet about ours, their shadows a thousand thoughts later in their con of order, uneven William Bookeblind of the victorious would say so, memories of the dream minding, heavenly with tongues through the cap on the headlong stone if so is the will of.

And on the cap she twilled a twine flame to let everybodhi know she is marrid.

Illigacol but so icy whent, although the exact time of this cannot be punpointed. We are living it. And along it comes with mummeries of resurrection. Our one large eyes and souls she gathered up in fairy tales, and forth spring a little something and everything that we are and have. Yes and we are here now alriddly, we have godden up in othertimes to the Rosy Dawn, all the gods of all with our strange names in this neighbourhide of the sagan! Howit began? Began O don't begone! Flutter us an opending! Now she someth with colorful smoke into your century to convey, and there, as she says, the bed and Now became a cup of spice telepathy. Every resulting – silence – in the waters of this if we once again. Behush the waters of her most decisive redviolet wine. The history-dream. Took a stage, has the ever been? And we are the flower. But you notice the living. All that information in words. It is story. We are coming on. It was fruity. It’s pretty kinky a gate to change and overcome your own legend. This timestream, how it creates and lays our good adventure. Information arriving through all together, it’s a joint and merges perfectly with flaws and floats awsay beneath the diamond rays of story, born. They very into conversation, the Cogans. All ways through the timeseams. No one yes off in front of the wild rose. They cast off their plan ahead of the spring of their love. Transmission of books, yet no consideration, bed into the question float around your tongue. It’s the loveliest mind milk, you speak it all the time. In the great great novel. When you see parts of wild rose, maybe a good idea to pour yourself some time to be a hermit, away from the world. Enter the book in the sky. Look to the sky, the orgasmic musheenery! There is nothing that cannot be achieved here.

And Spiros, who is the pin of my apron, he has now left again once and for all back to our home-world Plomari, and all of us Cogans are here with you, everywhere here, and soon, at last, we will stand naked, our veil fallen! You see, we are the animators of Space-Time.

Soon, O how soon!

L00VSW00:00SH

Tja! Wintjabernatrice here, remember me? Hihihi. Remember how we said I am the main Large-Scale Coordinator of Plomari, and that we thus hid me in the background? They call me Nectar Herself. I am Ra's wife. Ra and me are happy. Everyone, let us clear our tears now and feel only the Nectar of Love. Tja means High and Hi in SwEden. Tja! Hi hi how high are you? I am bumblebee happy now that we are done.
Time is disslocated and, O Dear Brave and Shy Beloveds, leave your worries behind and let us dance into the future Paradises! For us of who don't understand yet what has happened, prepare yourself for great news! Here comes everybody. How thankful we are that you woke us from the nightmare of History, Goddess of Bounty! A happy beginning! Let us stand under our umbrella!

Happy third Honeymoon, Sissy-Ra and Spiros-Ra. May your and alls our Love hold the universe together forever. May Sissy-Ra's calm and peace and Spiros-Ra's Griffin lioness wildness bless us all, this day and forever more:

High, Spiros-Ra here. Thank you for biting me with your snake, Sisi. May it be known that the sun is a hallucination and that the sun is actually me and Sissy-Ra's happiness and love as well as it is Set's boat, calmly shining and showering the expanses with everyones' Love. We are all the sun. Yes that is why we are called the Sun, because we are so happy; and we gladly help out anytime you need us. Thanks for the white knitted shirt also! We are going to go home now, as you say on our Honeymoon, hihihi. Oand don't forget, all the street lamps are the Saucer. /Ra-Ra

The mushroom speaks, and our opinions rest upon what it tells eloquently of itself in the cool night of the mind:

"I am old, older than thought in your species, which is itself fifty times older than your history. Though I have been on earth for ages I am from the stars. My home is no one planet, for many worlds scattered through the shining disc of the galaxy have conditions which allow my spores an opportunity for life. The mushroom which you see is the part of my body given to sex thrills and sun bathing, my true body is a fine network of fibers growing through the soil. These networks may cover acres and may have far more connections that the number in a human brain. My mycelial network is nearly immortal, only the sudden toxification of a planet or the explosion of its parent star can wipe me out. By means impossible to explain because of certain misconceptions in your model of reality all my mycelial networks in the galaxy are in hyperlight communication across space and time. The mycelial body is as fragile as a spider's web but the collective hypermind and memory is a vast historical archive of the career of evolving intelligence on many worlds in our spiral star swarm. Space, you see, is a vast ocean to those hardy life forms that have the ability to reproduce from spores, for spores are covered with the hardest organic substance known. Across the aeons of time and space drift many spore-forming life-forms in suspended animation for millions of years until contact is made with a suitable environment. Few such species are minded, only myself and my recently evolved near relatives have achieved the hyper-communication mode and memory capacity that makes us leading members in the community of galactic intelligence. How the hypercommuni-cation mode operates is a secret which will not be lightly given to man. But the means should be obvious: it is the occurrence of psilocybin and psilocin in the biosynthetic pathways of my living body that opens for me and my symbiots the vision screens to many worlds. You as an individual and man as a species are on the brink of the formation of a symbiotic relationship with my genetic material that will eventually carry humanity and earth into the galactic mainstream of the higher civilizations.

Since it is not easy for you to recognize other varieties of intelligence around you, your most advanced theories of politics and society have advanced only as far as the notion of collectivism. But beyond the cohesion of the members of a species into a single social organism there lie richer and even more baroque evolutionary possibilities. Symbiosis is one of these. Symbiosis is a relation of mutual dependence and positive benefits for both of the species involved. Symbiotic relationships between myself and civilized forms of higher animals have been established many times and in many places throughout the long ages of my development. These relationships have been mutually useful; within my memory is the knowledge of hyperlight drive ships and how to build them. I will trade this knowledge for a free ticket to new worlds around suns younger and more stable than your own. To secure an eternal existence down the long river of cosmic time I again and again offer this agreement to higher beings and thereby have spread throughout the galaxy over the long millennia. A mycelial network has no organs to move the world, no hands; but higher animals with manipulative abilities can become partners with the star knowledge within me and if they act in good faith, return both themselves and their humble mushroom teacher to the million worlds all citizens of our starswarm are heir to."

From Psilocybin - Magic Mushroom Grower's Guide
by O.T. Oss & O.N. Oeric