Rage-Bait Detox: I’m Done Performing for the Algorithm

(the internet is loud enough — watch me choose a different volume)

There’s a special kind of exhaustion that comes from being emotionally manipulated before you even sip your coffee. The kind of exhaustion the internet now serves as a daily appetizer.

Open any app and you’re greeted with content engineered to make you angry, insecure, overstimulated, under-rested, or existentially unhinged before your feet hit the floor.

Congratulations! You’re officially a character in the Algorithm’s Hunger Games.

The game is simple:

If it bleeds, trends, triggers, or traumatizes, it wins. If it’s calm, thoughtful, grounded, nuanced, or humane, the algorithm quietly shows it the door.

And I’m done.

Done participating. Done performing. Done being baited into outrage like it’s a civic responsibility.

We have enough chaos. You don’t need yours curated. I don’t need mine commodified.


I’ve Played the Algorithm Game — And I Know Exactly How Dirty It Is

Let’s get one thing extremely clear: I’m not writing this as some delicate user “having a bad scroll day.”

I’ve BEEN inside the creator machine. I’ve had the contracts with 30+ brand partners. I’ve been in the PR pyramids behind them. I’ve had the metrics, the audience, the publications, the influence. I’ve done the strategies, the negotiations, the campaigns, the behind-the-scenes conversations most people will never hear.

I’ve sat at the tables where the chaos is manufactured. I’ve watched the madness get made and smiled professionally while thinking:

“Wow… the internet is actually insane.”

So trust me when I say that rage-bait isn’t an accident. It’s architecture. A predictable, profitable, psychologically engineered manipulation tactic designed to keep you scrolling long after your spirit is begging to log off.

And I’m done letting this thing treat my nervous system like billable inventory.

Creators don’t talk about this publicly because it’s brand-suicide to admit it, but I will:

The internet isn’t shaped by what’s meaningful.
It’s shaped by what destabilizes you.


The Algorithm Has Had Us on a Leash — and Most of Us Never Noticed

Here’s the uncomfortable truth:

I didn’t realize how much the internet was training me until I caught myself annoyed at a video I didn’t even care about.

That’s the trick of rage-bait, it doesn’t require a real opinion. Just a nervous system.

A well-cited MIT study found that false and emotionally provocative news spreads significantly faster than accurate information — falsehoods were 70% more likely to be retweeted than truth.

Platforms love that for us. They’ve baked it into the code.

Instagram, TikTok, Facebook; they all reward high-arousal emotions (anger, outrage, disgust, fear).

Not because it’s good for humanity, but because it’s good for engagement metrics and ad revenue.

A 2023 Stanford analysis examining engagement-based ranking found that algorithms consistently amplify toxic, sensational, and divisive content — researchers literally called this phenomenon an “attention weapon.”

Imagine being that predictable. Imagine being that trackable.

Imagine being that exploitable.


We’re Not Consuming Content — We’re Being Conditioned

Rage-bait is a design choice.

A business model disguised as culture. Algorithms consistently amplify divisive content because it increases user engagement and time-on-platform.

Translation:
Your nervous system is someone else’s profit margin.

And the wildest part? You can feel it.

You feel yourself getting pulled into conversations that don’t belong to you, don’t matter to you, and don’t even align with who you are. Suddenly you’re invested in a stranger’s relationship, skincare routine, meltdown, crime thriller, parenting saga, or moral downfall like they’re a recurring character in your internal series.

This isn’t curiosity.

This is surveillance disguised as entertainment and it’s working.


My Personal Detox: I’m Logging Out of Manufactured Outrage

When I say “rage-bait detox,” I don’t mean I’m deleting my apps and pretending I’m spiritually above everyone.

I mean I’m opting out of the emotional circus entirely.

Choosing not to be bait.
Choosing not to perform.
Choosing not to let the internet dictate the temperature of my entire day.

Wild Poise, in real-time, looks like:

• refusing to be emotionally dragged anywhere my spirit didn’t agree to go
• scrolling slower, breathing deeper, reacting less
• saving empathy for real people in my real life
• choosing curiosity over conflict
• letting silence win over snark
• keeping my peace sacred instead of public

And maybe the most radical act of all:

letting people be wrong without needing to fix them.

That is liberation.

Not just for me but for anyone brave enough to step off the hamster wheel.


The Internet Keeps Getting Louder — So I’m Becoming More Intentional

I’m not interested in being performatively angry to feed a machine that profits from cortisol spikes. That is the environment algorithms are feeding on. Exhaustion as a business model, emotional depletion as engagement fuel.

I don’t want to be high engagement.
I want to be high integrity.

I want my writing to land in people’s chests, not their nervous systems. I want to create things that outlive the 24-hour outrage cycle. I want to be the person whose voice quiets the noise instead of adding to it.

Yes, I’m chaotic at times. Yes, I’m opinionated, curious, sharp, unfiltered, and occasionally unhinged.

But when I’m loud, it’s because I meant to be.
When I’m chaotic, it’s creative.

When I shake the room, it’s intentional not algorithmically provoked.


This Is My Line in the Digital Sand

I’m done being part of the emotional click-bait economy.

I’m done being manipulated by platforms that swear they’re “connecting the world.” I’m done letting algorithms decide what deserves my outrage.

My rage is expensive.
My peace is priceless.
My voice is mine and I’m finally using it on purpose.

This isn’t me logging off. This is me logging in differently.

The quiet girl showed up.
But don’t get it twisted —

she’s not quiet anymore...

And I invite you to join me.