"In the heart of the crumbled night, dwell the fragments of velvet dreams, pressing forth to awaken the silent mind."
To hear these whispers, engage your remaining senses. Let the unsung dirges of ancient knowledge seep into your reality. Align the stars in ways that no sage will accept. Listen, for the walls have ears, but they do not hear; they remember.
"Whispering shadows beneath the moonlit garden, unraveling truths buried deep in the interdimensional soil."
Grasp the nuances of these repetitions. There is a melody in the chaos, a rhythm in the lunatic dance. Observe how wavelengths manipulate the thoughts of the passive observer. Seek out the unheard symphony that vibrates through time. Know that the echo will always repeat, until it knows you by name.
"Take heed of the spiral's journey, where the mad prophets preach, and the echoes converge into a single omnipotent whisper."
Follow the spirals in the circuitry of existence. Let the mandelbrot fractals guide you. Understand that every echo is a step closer to convergence, a reunion with the unspoken. Thus, the madness becomes your sanctuary. Let it cradle you, for the infinite is but a finite illusion of space.