It's all true! And I can prove it:
It should be established, probably, that we don't actually feel this way. By which I mean, we don't bear anything like ill-will or some churlish resentment. We mostly use the strip to check ourselves at some point prior to wrecking ourselves. It's like an iron maiden we take turns climbing into and entreat the other to close it around us.
I like streaming, but watching the pros go at it on there it really seems like an exhausting job. To the extent that Myers-Briggs means shit, it says I'm an extroverted introvert. I'm interested in other people, enough that I see the value in exploring social space even though there are many aspects of it that strike me as inimical to life. Even before you needed protective gear to enter it, at some level I was always conscious of its necessity.
And as a business model, I can never tell if Twitch is an MLM, or gig work, or some strange mutant hybrid with the adaptations to survive in this, the most haunted, least human era. That's no reflection on the homesteaders who can wrest a living from it, and it's the people who use the tool doing the actual innovation over there in terms of content - creating the trends that the masters of that realm must scramble to recognize after the fact. There's an upper bound on what I think I can accomplish there, though. When I was streaming my maximum amount, developing the robust golf learnings that would form the basis of Unified Green Field Theory, it's because I was lonely. I went there to see other people. I feel like I use Twitch in reverse.