After over a decade of absence, I briefly returned to Facebook this spring — mostly for shits and giggles, not out of any genuine longing. I connected with a total of four people: my father, his brother, my brother, and an old friend. That’s it. No “network,” no photo dumps, no fishing for likes.
Just a few discussions. Some memes. A couple of spicy comment threads. And then came the wall.
One minute I was scrolling harmlessly, the next moment I found myself performing digital contortions to prove my own existence to a faceless algorithm.
Facebook’s system decided I needed to verify my humanity. First with a puzzle. Then with a video selfie. Full biometric ID, face movement tracking, the whole dystopian kit. No access granted unless I nod like a loyal NPC and upload my face to the algorithm.
Well, that’s where I draw the line.
So if you’re wondering where I went, the answer is simple:
I didn’t.
I’m not suspended. I’m not deleted.
I’ve just been algorithmically ghosted for not proving I'm actually flesh and bones.
You won’t find me there anymore. Not because I left in outrage, but because I couldn’t be bothered to pass the Turing test designed by the corporate overlords.
180 days from now, unless I blink into their camera, the account will vanish.
And I’m fine with that.
