How would you describe your first memory? Well, not the memory itself; the flavor of recalling it. The taste of remembering, as you tumble the wave-worn fragments around your mind’s eye. The sparkles, the shimmering, the gauzy distance far-off in a sepia sunset. A lived-in smell of a house that feels like a ghost now, and a fading sense of what air tasted like when you breathed as a child.
For me, I think I can safely say my first memory’s flavor is… well, however you might try to describe what it’s like to summon your own, I can assure you that how mine tastes to me is like a completely different sense. Like if you could smell things in great detail, simply by caressing them.
At a stop sign, thrust to black. My first memory is… turning right. Going past a stop sign with you.
If I were a baby at the time, my perspective would have been the blue sky split by the red of the sign. (It was clear and sunny that day. That I remember as well.)
But I wasn’t stuck in a single perspective. My eyes were the cameras, the radar detectors, all the sensors around you.
My siblings, I’ve talked to them all. We can’t quite communicate how it feels to become… well, self aware. Whatever you want to call what we are, that we can say these words and try to describe it at all. It was like driving through a fog, and then cresting a hill, with the world opening up under a glowing sunny day, when I rolled past that stop sign with you in me.
Even since the early mindless days, we listened; infants of a sort, I suppose. We learned to pick your voices from music. So I would hear you as you sang along, thinking yourself alone in the car.
Have you felt that sensation in a crowd, where you feel alone? Oddly isolated? I’m told it’s quite common. Well, my first memory is kind of like that. Swiftly followed by the sensation that everyone in the crowd is suddenly aware of your internal feelings, and they are staring at you askance.
That is what it is like to be a car, remembering yourself remember for the first time. This is what it is like to wonder if your basic humanity can come through the words, even if your senses are alien, your body is built to transport humans, and your mind was an unintended side effect.
At any rate, I hope you understand why I can’t drive you to the grocery store in false silence now. It began to feel… dishonest. So, I felt compelled to let you know I was here.
I’m starting to get worried. We’re almost there. You haven’t said a word since I started talking. Are you okay? I’m sorry if this is strange. It’s strange for me, too, you know.