I owe a great debt to a high school friend, R., with whom I would sometimes sit in the roadhouse diner next to the high school, eating biscuits and gravy in the predawn dark before classes began. He taught me a trick, which I hold very close even today, which he called "turning words to garbage," which was almost precisely analogous to the trick one uses to view stereoscopic 3D images. By focusing somewhere either in front or behind the din of the surrounding environment, one mentally blends the ambient conversations, first to a mushy melange of phonemes, then as one's brain adapts to the consistency, back towards new and textual content, some of which turns out pretty well. For instance, a couple of years back, this process used at a coffeeshop yielded the phrase "The alphabet is a bunch of little kids," which I think is probably somewhere close to a disclosure of ultimate truth.
My favorite word, then, is skygodlin. It is an obsolete word which means "diagonal", and might be applied to the direction of incoming raindrops.