Long ago, nobody made things themselves - no fire crafted them, no ground gave its stones, while violence never carved a word into existence.
Something took shape, out of empty air like. Meaning found its way into piles of words.
A peak only mattered because someone gave it a name.
A voice came through, making the waves change without warning.
Speech shaped how folks saw themselves. Out of talking came their sense of belonging.
Still, every bit of strength carried a hint of dread.
Language started getting managed by humans. In came the authorities, acting now.
Out of nowhere, they created a setup that changed how people saw reality - by changing the way words were said. Some lines got wiped clean. Harmful thoughts vanished into silence. Something that used to seem true slowly changed, out of nowhere.
Something buried began moving upward.
That version of reality got erased.
Still, those words won't stay gone.
Silence catches them every time.
Under today's words, bits of old talk stay - tucked into daily routines, showing as splits under new wall coating.
And sometimes...
A memory stays.
Deep inside the stacks of the Written Order rests a secret book - one that was never intended to be read.
A dictionary still carrying terms they never managed to wipe out.
A record of things the world was never meant to remember.
The Lexicon You Never Heard Of.
Then came the instant someone pulled it open.
Reality started reading its own version once more.