This is a good question indeed. I remember a much different me. It is almost as if it wasn't me. So horrible are these images of my past. The things I remember doing and saying and feeling are not in tune with who I am today. It was as if something left me. Maybe it was just my anger, but it was a profound release. An anger that was so strong it had it's own name, and an army of psychosis behind it. It was not all my anger or negativity, and I don't think I realized at the time what I done. It moved through me and it was painful and I screamed for help, but no one was there to help - not physically, anyway.
I feel remarkably different. Who is this? I am constant change. I am never and naught. I am not I. That way, I can be be what it wants to be.