"Have you ever been walking down the sidewalk, mind wandering somewhere out in the forests of your imagination... when suddenly it hits you that there are thousand-foot buildings on either side of you, and that we cook our vegetables, and have special dainty forks for French cheeses, and a country named France, and countries, and napkins, and a rule against putting elbows on the table, and a fucking word for mid-arm joint thingies, and colors that mean stop and go, and tax brackets, and Halloween costumes for your neighbor's chihuahua that only ever seems to pee in the hallway outside your door but everyone's too afraid of rocking the boat to complain about, and $10,000 mahogany coffins that will only be seen for 15 minutes before being buried under an engraved hunk of rock that cost $20,000 to excise from the earth, and carve, and polish... and band-aids, and people whose job title is literally "manufacturer of band-aids," and care bears, and nuclear warheads, and a concrete sidewalk that hundreds of millions of years ago was hopelessly, wonderfully, immaculately alive—trilobytes—a sidewalk that you all at once stand upon right now, this very second, suddenly so intimately, breathtakingly aware that you even... are.
And do you just laugh, completely and utterly dumbfounded by the absurdity of it all: at the fact that you are, right now, here.
Her response was something to the effect of "How long have you been in my brain?!" So at least I had that going for me.
Mind melding is weird.