Somewhere in this world rests a person who doesn't say much, though they have a lot to say. They paradoxically know what is real, what is true, which is that certainty in any truth disregards the truth there is no certainty in anything. Nothing is known, all before us is an elaborate hallucination of drugged up animals holding together a reality through the web of linguistics, as even our existence is in doubt.
And they don't say much because who can when your thoughts are out of place? It's the result of a person who has finally found themselves after years of searching; an act of rebellion against the worldwide establishments hindering independent thought as a means to control and disempower. So there they are, unbeknownst to the world but rich with novelty and depth.