karaoke_hangover warmthofrelease Always feel chagrined any time I go across the river. I always make fun of the place. But I almost always have a good time too. Last night was very good. They told me he turned up for his birthday, but geez_louise. It was nice to see the bubbly giggly flamboyant uninhibited side of the man. Karaoke is not an audition, it's never about the quality of voice, it's all about the performance. Which yes includes song selection. But also your ability to command the room, audience participation, commitment. And when I tell you he nailed it. Prince of his own birthday, king of the bar for a night. Some of the sports nerds I half_listen to say that anything which more than one person is trying to do is competition. So in that sense I can always let my ego get to me. In any performative venture. It's so easy. Taking myself too seriously is the reflex, relaxing and having fun is what takes effort. I didn't meet anyone new. Barely talked the whole night. Someone was rubbing their back up against mine in the high chairs, them facing the TV wall of the bar and me facing the karaoke stage where my friend group was tearing up the floor with Disney tunes and one_hit_wonders. If they meant it as a hint I chose to ignore it. If it was entirely coincidence I didn't mind it. When I go out into public is exactly when I don't want to talk to people or meet people or put myself out there. Counter_intuitive? Disadvantageous? Probably. But the more people there are the further into my shell I withdraw. Until I take that stage. I always wanted to do gender_bender karaoke, I just never did. All_I_Wanna_Do was a pretty good choice. The objective was to pick recognizable things that people would feel encouraged to sing along with, but which also didn't suck. It's ok if you think Sheryl_Crow sucks. But I have a soft spot for her. I could feel my voice starting to go within the last couple choruses (I_wont_tell_you but youre_the_only_one). My baritone ass should've just stuck to falsetto. Stayed in my lane. Embraced my genetic shortcomings and settled for imitation. But the bourbon, as usual, will disagree. It really was a nice night. Even for the quietude. Even for as much as I saw people judging other people. Even for the distance I still felt between myself and everyone else. It was nice to be an outline, floating down the river of sociality for a while. Only to stand in the current and wade to the shore after I'd had enough. It's nothing to be washed away by. I got home before 3. Cats were not dead, yay. I ate probably too much cheese and I wrote a poem and I felt that devil creeping on my shoulder, craning up to whisper in my ear, "you see? alcohol DOES bring you good things." I cover my ears. I need you to not be there, alcohol. Please. It's not about conformity or non conformity. It's not about past transgressions. It's not about addictive personality or a fear of the self. It's about control. Understanding what is right from wrong, what is poison. I haven't smoked a cigarette since the Obama administration. I know I'm better for that. But I still do feel the pangs. I don't want you to be what enhances my life, even in moderation. Because I know the devil you are. Alright fine this is totally about a fear of the self. But ultimately, just like when we were helping birthday boy's wife to pack for her trip to California when we got back to their place, you can't try to overthink your preparation. Still prepare, but trust yourself enough to know that you can wing it in any situation. And maybe scale back your priority on fashion a little bit...but I can't make up your mind about that. I can only be my shell_ass stage_ass so_what_if_youre_disappointed self. But as it turns out, and I already knew this, With_A_Little_Help_From_My_Friends is an excellent last_call karaoke song. Swaying and singing with the birthday boy. Brought the house down. I winged it, and I made good choices. Everyone else was just everyone else. I could probably stay in my room for another week but it was worth everything I've paid for it, and everything that I have yet to pay. It's so clear in the aftermath, what was good. Like that fast food fried chicken does have its place in this world. Happy Saturday night, happy Sunday morning you damn legends. 240519 what's it to you? who go blather from