Language (n.) is invented the way a person is a person: without convention, as a natural gift.
Language (n.) does not create meaning; it only carries information to a place where meaning is already waiting.
Language (n.) left alone drifts toward a guild password: to understand a diagram you need only eyes, but to understand a text you must belong.
Language (n.) is the only thing people hold in common, and it shares only the word: the same word names a different impression in each of us.
Language (n.) is what lets technical knowledge grow up: what an artisan absorbed as a child stays wordless habit, but knowledge put into words and diagrams can be argued over, corrected and taught to adults.