I remember the most beautiful moment of my life. I couldn't have been 4.
Everybody was gathered in the park, a gathering to watch the sunset and there was music playing.
This was a single moment lost in the 90s fever: The singer had just died, and I think we were celebrating his poetry or his clinginess to life.
But at the same time, nobody was talking about it. There was just silence and the sunset - a meaningless collection of sensations to all but a childish mind.
I've since tried to talk to some of the people I reckon were there, but none of them recall any of it happening.
They would have me believe the best moment of my life was a dream.