On Leaving, Returning, and the Algorithmic Self

When I disappear from the internet, I tell myself it’s temporary. Just a pause, a recalibration. Then the silence stretches. A week, a month, a season. Eventually, someone messages to ask if I’m okay, and I’m startled by the assumption that my absence is a crisis.

Maybe it is. Or maybe it’s simply the natural recoil from a system that confuses presence w…