my earliest memory is my first birthday.
leaning against the front of what was to me, a shoulder-high couch.
and watching as Helga brings a cake towards me.
she was speaking. I remember the speaking sounds.
I was of course, clueless as to whether or not they should have meaning.
you know what I mean.
it was a white cake with brown sprinkles or shavings.
i vaguely recollect people to my left and right. other children.
as i was experiencing what was to be my first memories,
i also remember feeling misanthropic–obviously also the first time.
you know what I mean?