I’ve always loved words. Splattered in books or spoken in films.  I’ve had words adorning my bedroom walls on posters.  I used to love the words of songs that were printed and included in CD albums. Do they even do that anymore? I can’t be the only one that spent days reading them out loud. I used to print out quotes and stories and scripts and stick them on noticeboards and in picture frames, comforted by the sentences strung together by someone who felt the same as I did. Someone else could say the things I couldn’t speak. They said…