Doing the daily New York Times Spelling Bee has really attuned me to the arbitrary nature of word existence. There are so many reasonable combinations of letters that sound like they should be words, but aren’t.
Why is cloop not a word, or grithing? Wouldn’t it be great to have your very own pet spreech, or to go for a brisk early morning pelunk?
Maybe, in some parallel universe, all of these words exist. It’s cool to imagine such a place.
I wonder if there is a word for that?