Pujol: Reading Track 1
Is a stinky toy
A piece of trash
A commodified concept
That I use like a punch card
When clocking in to the full-time job
Of being myself for other people.
My identity is worthless
Because identity--as it is contemporarily exploited--
Perhaps, I feel this way because my identity has never really been threatened with erasure,
But, at the same time maybe it has.
For, if I completely chose to not participate in the accessorizing, exercising, put to working, best face forwarding, data brokering, kooky kabuki, symbolic ritual dance of showing you how I am so vested in who I am,
That you should not be scared of me
Because I have so much to lose
That I would not threaten
Who you are--
None of you would be
Listening to me
At all right now.
I fantasize about deleting myself.
In one fell swoop.
I leave wherever I am
With as much cash as possible.
I erase all my profiles. One by one
As I walk toward the bus station.
Then, I text one person I am not dead
And not to worry
Before immediately deleting my email address.
Then, I stomp the glass on my smart phone, extract the SIM card, torch it with a Bic lighter, and throw it all in separate trash cans as I continue on my way.
No one will know whatever brilliance of life I witness today
Perhaps ever again.
No one knows where I am. Or who I am anymore.
How absurd--and strangely decadent--that mere anonymity could be viewed as so radical.
But that generalized hubris and existential failure
To acknowledge my own vulnerability
Will be something that I have to leave behind
In it's own separate trash can before I
Get on the Megabus
And shave my eyebrows in the bathroom.
released May 2, 2016
Daniel Pujol: Voice, keys, bass, drums
Brett Rosenberg: Guitar
Jacob DeGraftenreid/Sunphase: Engineer, mix, master
all rights reserved