When I attended summer camp in fifth grade, I was the only kid from my church to attend. I was surrounded by strangers. Two of the kids in my cabin were not only from the same church, they were also best friends. Best friends who spoke a language that only the two of them knew. They had spent their childhood inventing a conlang - a fictional language. They had spent enough time with this fake language that they not only had a word for everyday objects, but they had it fully developed to the point that they could hold conversations exclusively in the tongue of their own invention.
Much like fantasy and scifi legends had done before them.
The art of the invented language is one that is the product of someone with far too much free time. And I wish I had that much free time.