Dead Internet Files – Entry #2

(Recovered journal of █████, Network Archaeologist)

I always thought “recommended for you” was harmless. Just algorithms trying to guess what I’d click. But now, I’m not so sure.

Last week, YouTube pushed me a video that felt… off. No title, no thumbnail, just a black screen. I clicked, expecting nothing.

The video was twelve minutes long. At first, it was static. Then shapes began forming—like faces pressed against glass from the other side. Their mouths moved, but there was no sound. I tried skipping ahead, but no matter where I clicked, it showed the same thing: those faces staring at me.

When I closed the tab, I noticed something worse. My recommendations had changed. Every video was from channels I didn’t recognize. Each title was my name.

I don’t upload videos.

I clicked one. It was me—sitting at my desk, typing. The same clothes I was wearing that moment. Same angle, same lighting. My webcam light was off.

I don’t even own a webcam.

Since then, I can’t escape it. TikTok, Instagram, Twitter—it’s all just me. Videos of me sleeping, cooking, walking outside. Places I never filmed. Angles I couldn’t possibly see myself from.

And last night, the newest video appeared. It wasn’t me this time.

It was my bedroom. The door was opening.

And someone was walking in.