The Camgirl Diaries

How can one be lonesome, when their every day is crowded with hundreds, perhaps thousands of micro interactions? Shouldn’t I be socially depleted, or even fulfilled? But I’m not, I’m lonesome. This job makes you tired, and there most certainly no staff luncheons or talks around the water cooler.

I try to talk to other cam girls here and there to have anyone to relate to, commiserate to. There’s a little 21 year old internet pimpess I’ve taken a liking to, a couple superfan super shy wanna be camgirls. On my regular live streams I have “friends”, even met a girlfriend I lived with for 4 months there. Oh, I’m bisexual by the way.

Anyhow, I sit by my phone at this time of day, starting to drink because it’s simply part of the ritual, smoking without wiping off too much lipstick on the pipe, cartoon clouds of pink perfume all but wafting off me. It’s attached to me like a life preserver, that damn phone. I used to brag about how low my screen time was. It’d be 90 minutes or less a day on average.

Now, my screen time says I spend more time with my phone than asleep. So when do I live?

I’m trying right now, texting my camgirl friend – please listen to my stories no one else can relate to!! She’s busy with her boyfriend. Sending my newest content to the guy I’m sorta talking to – oh yeah, he’s totally fine with my job. Forgot to update you on the boy situation. How he’s fine I don’t know; but he indeed seems fine with it.

But fine is different than understanding, and understanding of this sort of work is scarce. I want a drinking night for camgirls, online like during Covid. I want some connection to others that understand, can guide me, laugh with me, feel my pain.

So I sit and think, thoughts echoing around the chamber inside my brain where social attention belongs. Like I’m performing in an empty orchestra; my life is karaoke.