There seems to be a peculiar relationship between being seen and seeing ourselves. The less public I am, the richer and more ambiguous my inner life becomes. When I don’t look in the mirror, I don’t really have a face; when I don’t fill out a Twitter profile, I don’t really have a “bio”; when I don’t follow and unfollow anyone, I am not mindful of how I might be followed or unfollowed. Perhaps we know ourselves only through others, and so we must free ourselves of others if we wish to unlearn ourselves, estrange ourselves from ourselves, and come to see ourselves without contempt once more. I don’t know.