Looking at life through a black bag

Before I was destroyed. Before the war, and before my personal deconstruction I was on a path to identity and knowingness in which I was conscious of love between friends and soul mates. I knew how to dress myself, what I should listen to, and what I needed to say. I knew how to present myself, and most importantly I knew what I wanted to be. Before my world began to crack, and before the sledge of time came down upon my skies smashing every possibility open and letting the reality of life pour into my unadulterated soul, I was happy. At the time, the cast of characters was so limited. I was the protagonist.