author, father, husband
unemployed, estranged, ex-husband
poet, photographer, illustrator
deviant, entrepreneur, revolutionist
futurist, antiquarian, gift-bearer
religious zealot, antichrist, secularist

Where I’m from, no one asks you your name. But where I am, you can’t even order a taco without a name. I looked down at my receipt at Taco Bell and picked the first numbers I saw. $6.72.

“Seventy two,” I told him. And a serial number–that’s just perfect, isn’t it? I’ve gone by many names. According to legend, I was nameless for two weeks upon birth. I’ve worn many hats since then, and many names. I grew up at with the internet, and she’s matured with me. Handles, users, serials, names, nicknames, codes of every kind–I’ve had too many hats on my head.