At some point, I also discovered words. I knew they existed, understood their meanings, but they didn’t interest me. I didn’t have to be interested in them. For a long time, I barely had to speak at all; it was enough to remain silent, to look as though I were thinking about something, as if I could say something but simply chose not to. That would encourage some people to talk more, ostensibly to me but really to themselves, while others it would intimidate. Either way, no one really expected me to speak.

But eventually, I discovered the lower and higher floors of meaning in words and their constellations. I understood that you could create worlds with them. That you could wear them like armor and a shield, like a weapon more powerful than silence. That you could dress yourself in them, transform into someone else. That you could disappear into them. And this, I could no longer ignore.

But they were also simply beautiful. Colorful. Cool, warm, cold, and hot. They had scents. I couldn’t resist them.