The thoughts that brush against our own, like whispers of leaves in orient fogs, plant seeds in the mind's unwaking ground.
The essence of existence trickles through like sunlight through serrated cliffs, bathing each shadowy truth in understanding.
Perhaps, allies emerge not from spoken vows, but from silences shared, knitting bonds within the tapestry of space between words.
Every turn in our shared neurological maze uncovers another mirage of truth, an echo of synchronicities yet to be explored.