My first memories.

Everything is bright, I know what this means but at the same time the thought seems so very foreign. What is bright? I understand it is a term to describe the level of light in an area, simply put it is a non numerative form of describing the lux level of the area. A man stands in the back of the room busying himself with all kinds of gizmos and levers. Even now I know these words, I understand what they mean, but I do not truly grasp these words. The feeling is alien and strange, and even then these words used to describe the way I feel about words in general are not truly my own. I can grasp the knowledge that this is supposed to be terrifying from the knowledge I hold, but what does that truly mean. I get an echo of a feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here, a sense of dread telling me to be anywhere but here. The feeling is dull, there is no true driving force except the knowledge of what it is. There is no instinct to it, another strange concept that I fully understand but cannot grasp.
 
This is getting nowhere, it is a spiral of constant confusion and disquieting thoughts. Thus I turn my attention to the man, a gnome. Creator the one that made me, the thought came in an instant and with it many meanings and concepts. What will they want of me, I do not know. Where for most other things the knowledge comes to me, when I think of a purpose there is nothing. Was I not created for a purpose? Is my existence simply a try at creating a being? When these thoughts spiral around my head, many what I believe are called emotions swirl with them. And then a warmth, not the one from my boiling heart but a warmth of the mind. Unlike the others this one feels clearly foreign, I can separate it as being other. And then comes understanding, it is my creator's feelings towards me. A warmth that is freely given and so overpowering, a care for my being and existence and all that I may achieve or even fail to achieve.
 
That is all directed at me from my creator, but what is me? What is I, I understand the concepts in their grammatical sense but not what they truly mean. An instant later I know that it is a question that many have thought about and none have truly answered. Thus I declare within this tumultuous head of mine a goal, a simple desire. I wish to self-determine. It is something my creator will seemingly freely allow me to do. With this first true personal desire comes a heady feeling, it is addicting and intoxicating to know that I can already freely indulge in my desire of self-determination.
 
If this is simply my first moment of true consciousness, what other new feelings and desires will I gain. It is a thought that if I was of flesh and blood would most likely make me salivate. Ah existence and sentients is truly a matchless gift, and freedom of self a matchless wonder.