Day 1: “I’ll learn Ithkuil for fun.”; Hour 2: “Cool, it’s like linguistic math.”; Day 2: “Why does every word have a PhD?”; Day 3: “I’m making flashcards.”; Day 4: “The flashcards are crying.”; Day 5: “Okay, just the basics.”; Day 6: “There are no basics.”; Week 1: “I can pronounce… a concept.”; Week 2: “I understood one sentence (I think).”; Week 3: “My brain is doing declension push-ups.”; Week 4: “I now dream in suffixes.”; Month 2: “I told a friend about cases. They left.”; Month 3: “I’ve stopped speaking English to stay pure.”; Month 4: “I can say ‘hello’ in 47 nuanced ways.”; Month 5: “I can also say ‘hello’ wrong in 47 nuanced ways.”; Month 6: “I tried to order food in Ithkuil.”; Month 6 (later): “The waiter achieved enlightenment and vanished.”; Month 7: “I wrote a diary entry. It was one word.”; Month 8: “That one word contained my entire childhood.”; Month 9: “People ask how I’m doing. I answer with morphology.”; Month 10: “I can finally express ‘it depends’ with perfect precision.”; Month 11: “I have transcended small talk.”; Year 1: “I have become a walking grammatical category.”; Year 2: “Ithkuil speaks me now.”; Final phase: “Survival status: grammatically impeccable, socially extinct.”
