I have no problem humiliating myself on the Internet. I’m sure plenty of people would describe my online presence as cringe, or get some form of second-hand embarrassment. There’s a sick fascination I have with poking at the thing that makes me feel embarrassed and exposing it. That being said, I’m not immune to hiding, editing, and deleting. I do come to regret these attempts at control eventually, wishing I had never futzed with it in the first place.
When writing my most recent post about Smule, I took a detour and started watching old karaoke-style videos I would make for live performances. One in particular, a video I toured with in 2016—it’s funny, I don’t even want to share what it’s called for fear that people will go and watch it—made me feel so uncomfortable. Instead of burying it, which is what everything in my body told me to do while watching it, I’m taking the stick out and poking at it.
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