Hey everyone!
There’s a peculiar tension in tech nostalgia — we romanticize the tools of the past not because they were necessarily any better, but because they remind us what we once hoped technology would have become. Lately, I’ve been retracing the DNA of early social platforms, hunting for clues about where we might rebuild genuine connection in an age of bot-driven engagement and algorithmic noise.
I fondly remember early Twitter circa 2008–2009 — a time when 140 characters was enough. Our timelines were simple, chronological opt-in feeds. No ads, no algorithms filtering our view, no influencer engagement. It was free, and so were we.
Back then, I used Twitter to stash tech bookmarks and share thoughts with whoever was around. There was no pressure to go viral or dunk on others. Thoughts percolated; short-form felt like long-form. Ideas had to be unpacked. Conversations were richer and news moved slower. You had time to sip on them.
Looking back at the platform as it existed at this time, there were no Like counts. There was no Retweet functionality. There was no filtered “Replies” view. This was before the platform had any concept of comments. We each had one stream to tweet little bits of compressed information throughout the day. That was it.
The Changing Face of Social Media
Since its rebrand to X, my feed feels like a different beast. Ads and promoted posts blend seamlessly with organic content, and topics I've muted or blocked still continue to pop up. Between updates from my network, I scroll past walls of posts from sources I've never interacted with on subjects I have no interest in (or have explicitly tried to mute), full of wild videos of violence caught on camera and half-naked OnlyFans profiles.
One recent ad stood out. It was a post labeled as a paid advertisement yet offered no product or service for sale. It depicted a war zone and had even been flagged by the platform's own Community Notes for spreading misinformation, yet it kept on running, front & center.
It felt like switching from a TV with hundreds of channels to one that randomly cycles through infomercials and static.
Even basic features have been glitchy. Tweet counts and Likes don't always add up correctly, and preview images from competitor domains are often removed. Access to my own content is now paywalled through the API, throttling organic discovery.
In the early days, the API was free. You could read your own content, freely search for keywords — do whatever you wanted. I used it to host my X feed on my site and even made apps. This openness meant everything was indexed, allowing discovery from external sources like Google.
But now, that same (free) Basic API costs a staggering $200 per month for limited access. To circumvent this steep paywall, bots masquerade as regular users, engaging just enough to avoid being flagged. Ironically, this fuels the creation of more bots that better mimic human behavior, training ever more engaging bots.
It's surprising how much data is collected — from tracking cookies and shared purchase histories to location info, plus the countless thoughts I've posted over the years. Yet, despite all this information, they seem to care so little about these interests. On X, the "interests" tagged to my account (found in Settings > Content You See) seldom align with me. Instead, they seem to reflect what they'd like me to pay attention to.
What Else Is There?
In search of "the next old-style-Twitter," I ventured into several new platforms:
Warpcast / Farcaster
Bluesky
Threads
Mastodon
Nostr
Warpcast / Farcaster
Warpcast initially seemed promising — a new space for NFT artists as X's algorithm shifted.
On Warpcast, all posts are made within channels, which are somewhat like a blend of Reddit communities and Twitter threads. Users can purchase — or more accurately, lease — these channels, as there's no guarantee of permanent ownership, should they decide to repurpose or take ownership over your channel.
After fully committing, I found my posts weren’t reaching others as expected — hidden by default, even in channels I had paid to moderate. I would post a comment, and others would have to expand the parent thread to find it. The total count failed to increment, so they wouldn’t know it existed without looking for it. Apparently, this was the behavior for accounts labeled as spam.
I noticed my artwork being used by others to promote token drops without my permission or any form of compensation. Tokens were given to those sharing artists' work, but not to the artists themselves. Often, an interactive post pinned to the top of the platform would let me see how much of a token my "friends" held compared to me, tempting me with what seemed like a hot tip. Then it would direct me on how to buy it, only to have the price plummet shortly after my purchase.
Realizing that Warpcast wasn't aligning with my goals, I decided to move on. I returned to X, starting back over with zero followers (down from 25,000), and continued to explore other options.
Bluesky
After leaving Warpcast, I jumped over to Bluesky. A week in, I was surprised to find my account included on several blocklists. Maybe my interest in AI and crypto tech triggered someone. I'm not sure if it was my criticisms of the tech or my love for it — depending on the day. Being labeled a "spammer" and "anti-artist" without any appeals process was a disenchanting first impression of the community. I'm all about supporting artists and can't stand crypto spam either!
Many of the ideas I was passionate about elsewhere on X — especially early digital art collecting, AI art, new blockchains, smart contract design, and game theory — all felt somewhat under-discussed here. It was like certain interests couldn't gain traction or spark any community engagement.
I tried self-hosting on Bluesky to embrace decentralization, but the one-way migration and lack of broader adoption made it feel isolating. Once you commit to hosting, you can’t back out without losing your entire network when you stop paying.
Threads
Next up was Threads. Of all the platforms, it was the most meta — social media posting about social media. Endless growth strategies, social network leader gossip, and comments like "I only got 10 likes," or "Wow, I got 50,000 views!" Finding real news or new ideas worth exploring was nearly impossible.
I hated when they slapped “Meta AI” characters in ads above actual human content — they even tried to roll out AI profiles for people who didn't exist, then immediately removed them after backlash as a strange sort of temperature-check experiment.
Curious about privacy, I dug into their policies and default settings. I soon regretted it. The list of third parties they share data with included names like "Deep Root Analytics," a firm slammed for mishandling voter data. A quick search showed similar issues with others on the list, which had over 100 entities.
To grow my network, I boosted posts, but engagement came almost exclusively from sus accounts. Analytics showed my ads reached users far outside my target audience, leaving me paying to amplify content in places like Iran and Malaysia where it didn't even make sense.
When I tried engaging organically — liking posts and commenting — my account got flagged as spam and restricted. This was despite paying for their "Premium" tier, which promised verification and support.
I gave the Threads Developer API a shot and found the process unnecessarily complicated. Linking multiple accounts (Facebook for login, Instagram for verification, even WhatsApp for a confirmation code) felt over the top. Dealing with their complex authentication process was a nightmare. The constant need to refresh tokens just to perform basic actions like searching hashtags was infuriating. Once more, it felt extremely isolated from the real world.
Mastodon
Mastodon feels like early Twitter with a decentralized twist. I love the concept, but running a server was expensive and lonely. Despite its potential, it was disappointing how empty it felt. For now, it’s a ghost town.
Projects like Pixelfed, a decentralized Instagram alternative on the same protocol, had similar hurdles: they worked but felt clunky. Out of all the alternatives, hosting a server was the most expensive path — and after all that effort, I didn’t get a single organic engagement.
Nostr
Imagine a chatroom on a decentralized network where you truly own your data. That’s the dream behind Nostr. But true decentralization brings quirks: edits or deletions might not stick. Posts show up out of order, and follower counts change depending on relays. Anyone can claim any username on different relays, leading to confusing identity mix-ups.
Nostr offers a gritty peek into Web3's social potential, but right now, it's blatantly "early." The trade-off between decentralization and usability is huge. It's like a social network hosted on an old peer-to-peer platform like LimeWire. For it to catch on, the UX and discoverability have to be better.
Substack Just Works
Which brings us here. Ironically, after trying out all the decentralized microblogging platforms, I ended up embracing a newsletter hub I hadn't even considered: Substack. It was never on my list, but it turns out Substack is exactly what I needed.
I signed back up for a new free Bluesky account to exit the self-hosted version, starting from scratch, sharing mirrored post links to X + Bluesky. This combination feels closer to what I'm seeking: editorial control over my content and a more personalized connection with readers.
Substack allows me to share without algorithms influencing who sees my work, while X and Bluesky keep my content visible on different ends of the social media spectrum. For now, this balance feels "good enough."
It's funny — in this new age of Large Language Models (LLMs), I started running all of my tweets and social media posts through sentiment analysis tools for insights or new ideas. The results often came back as: "I don't quite understand what you're saying, but you seem annoyed." It made me laugh. By taking the time to develop my thoughts more thoroughly in this longer format, even if it's not complete long-form writing, and having the freedom to explore any topic at any moment, I feel this will be good for me. It feels liberating.
Reflections on the Digital Landscape
Throughout this journey, I've realized that while platforms come and go, our core desire for authentic connection and control over our content remains constant. Social media keeps evolving, but finding a space that truly aligns with our personal values is an ongoing challenge.
Maybe finding the perfect platform isn't as important as carving out our own space within them. It's time we create and nurture the spaces we crave.
Cheers!
🍻Ryan