Return of Morant: A Meditation on Digital Exile

There was a time when I told myself I was done. Done with the endless cycles of alliances, betrayals, the dopamine rush of anonymous validation. I had closed the tab, sworn off the pixels, and walked out into the analog world like a monk renouncing material desire. For a while, I believed it. But Tengaged is not something one simply quits. It lingers—like a half-remembered dream, or a song you hate but know all the words to. Even in absence, it hums somewhere in the background, whispering: come back, Morant. I tried to fill the void. Read books. Went outside. Cooked eggs in canola oil. But nothing could replicate the chaos of a place where strangers form temporary families over nothing more than the fear of elimination. There’s something beautifully tragic about that—a social experiment masquerading as a game, or maybe the other way around. So yes, I missed Tengaged deeply. I missed the ridiculous arguments, the alliances that dissolved faster than instant coffee, the late-night DMs about votes that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of anything. I missed the feeling of being Morant—, not whoever I am offline, but the distilled, absurd essence of myself that only the internet could produce. And now I’m back. Not for revenge, not for clout, but because pretending I didn’t care was the biggest lie of all. Tengaged is the chaos I deserve, and the peace I was never meant to find. Welcome to my resurrection. — Morant