Chris Sansbury

In the quest for the perfect digital toolset, I juggle multiple apps. We all do. Each is a piece of the puzzle of our online lives, yet for me at least, a complete solution remains elusive.

This year, I’ve settled into a routine that, while not perfect, combines several iOS that collectively shape how I stay connected and informed. It’s far from perfect but it’s where I’m at right now.

Tapestry is a cornerstone of my setup. It makes sure I never miss out on updates from Mastodon and Bluesky. I enthusiastically backed it during its crowdfunding phase, and I don’t regret that for a second. However, I wish it had a less cluttered design and more direct interaction capabilities like replying and liking posts directly within the app. And that toolbar at the bottom of the page with its acres of dead space, seems like a weird leftover from the early design stages. It not only distracts but also detracts from an otherwise streamlined experience.

Despite these frustrations, Tapestry’s ability to integrate plugins for various online services ensures it remains a crucial part of how I navigate my digital world.

I love Ivory. It’s such a beautiful way to navigate Mastodon. However, it has lost some of its utility as Mastodon has become quieter for me since the launch of Bluesky. The AT Protocol service is excellent at delivering real-time updates, but the iOS app leaves me wanting when I try to delve into past discussions—a gap I hope Phoenix will soon bridge.

Croissant is an essential tool that seamlessly bridges my social media presence between Bluesky and Mastodon, allowing for effortless cross-posting. Its intuitive design simplifies the management of posting on multiple platforms. I wouldn’t blame you if you thought this task could be handled in one of the other apps, but until they step up, developers Ben and Aaron are doing fantastic work.

On the reading front, I’ve reverted to using Silvio Rizzi’s Reeder for my RSS feeds after moving them back from Tapestry. I tried to move them all to Tapestry but the reading experience beyond the first 100 words felt overwhelming. Reeder offers unmatched clarity and organisation, making it the best choice for my reading needs. I would love a text-to-speech feature to help me focus on longer articles, but I know that’s a cost many app developers can’t stomach.

These apps form a patchwork of functionality—each solving part of the problem but none being the ‘one app to rule them all.’ I dream of streamlining my tools down to perhaps two that could offer the comprehensive capabilities I need without switching contexts so frequently. As our digital landscapes evolve, so does my hope for a toolset that simplifies my digital life, and brings me closer to that elusive ’one news app to rule them all.’

Instead of graphic scenes, it shows the horror of Elwood’s story through small, chilling details – the sound of a belt hitting skin, a nervous breath, sunlight catching dust in a silent room.

The film feels real because it doesn’t shout; it whispers, making you lean in closer. Every shot looks striking, like a photograph come to life, but it’s the moments between the violence – the fear in a glance, a shared secret – that hit hardest. By holding back, it gives you space to feel the full weight of its truth.

No easy answers, just haunting clarity.

Our digital experience can feel overwhelming, with a constant stream of updates on news, politics, and sports. This made me think of a new feature that I think would vastly improve the Bluesky experience–the ability to temporarily mute specific topics.

Being able to silence certain posts until the end of the day, the week or the month would really help us manage information overload in a much more stress-free way.

While it’s possible now for us to adjust these settings manually, a straightforward timed toggle to mute topics could make this process much smoother. You could engage with social media on your own terms, focusing on the content that genuinely interests you in the moment.

It would give us users the freedom to enjoy our social media more and worry about it less. Bluesky could in one swoop help alleviate the feelings of anxiety that can come with digital connectivity. This proactive approach to digital well-being could make a substantial difference in maintaining a healthier, more balanced online lifestyle.

Of course, the option is there to close the app. But sometimes you want to connect online without the content that may trigger you in negative ways. By making our digital interactions healthier and more enjoyable, Bluesky could set a new standard for social media platforms.

Our digital experience can feel overwhelming, with a constant stream of updates on news, politics, and sports. This made me think of a new feature that I think would vastly improve the Bluesky experience–the ability to temporarily mute specific topics.

Being able to silence certain posts until the end of the day, the week or the month would really help us manage information overload in a much more stress-free way.

While it’s possible now for us to adjust these settings manually, a straightforward timed toggle to mute topics could make this process much smoother. You could engage with social media on your own terms, focusing on the content that genuinely interests you in the moment.

It would give us users the freedom to enjoy our social media more and worry about it less. Bluesky could in one swoop help alleviate the feelings of anxiety that can come with digital connectivity. This proactive approach to digital well-being could make a substantial difference in maintaining a healthier, more balanced online lifestyle.

Of course, the option is there to close the app. But sometimes you want to connect online without the content that may trigger you in negative ways. By making our digital interactions healthier and more enjoyable, Bluesky could set a new standard for social media platforms.

After nearly two decades of scrolling, I’ve finally decided to log out of Facebook for good. It’s not even the recent news about Mark Zuckerberg’s flirting with Trump that pushed me to this decision—it’s the overwhelming clutter. The platform that once connected me to friends and family has transformed into an endless hellstream of adverts and mind-numbing videos, all vying for my attention.

I can’t remember when I last opened the app and saw an update from someone I know. Facebook, originally a place for personal connections, now feels more like a chaotic marketplace where genuine interaction is drowned out by noise.

What’s the real value of staying connected there if the human element has faded so much? Instead, I plan to take a more traditional route to stay in touch. I plan to pick up the phone more often, catching up with friends and family more deliberately and consciously.

It’s about swapping the passive ‘likes’ for active conversation and genuine updates about our lives. This shift means prioritising real relationships over digital ones, which feels increasingly necessary. My daughter is brilliant at this, and I want to take a leaf out of her book.

If I had Zuckerberg’s resources and control over Facebook, I might consider redirecting its focus or starting fresh with a platform that prioritises user experience over profit. Yet, the allure of squeezing out every last penny always overshadows the potential for meaningful community building in the tech industry.

For now, stepping back means I can redirect my energy into relationships that matter, without the distraction of a platform that has lost its way. It’s about quality over quantity, depth over breadth, and reconnecting in a way that feels authentic and fulfilling.

So if I’ve not been in touch for a while, feel free to drop me a line or make a call. It’ll be cool to catch up and have a blether.

I was born a long time ago, in a place, far, far away—true story. But before that, I’ve had the feeling recently that I’d like to go back to blogging. While I write a few times a week for a website that people say nice things about, I need something all the other things. Somewhere where there are no restrictions about what, when and how much I want to write.

So back to my true story that never happened.

When I was three or four, we lived in a house on the edge of a jungle near a beachfront. In this memory, a big tiger would sneak into the house, night after night, and terrify me as my mum and dad slept. Think Shere Khan from The Jungle Book, except very very real. To me, anyway.

It would walk through the front door, a low rumble on its breath padding its paw on the wooden floor. Time stretched like the long shadows on the beach on those moonlit nights. I felt each tick of the clock, each beat of my heart and the tiger prowled closer and closer. My parents soundly sleeping in the room next door were a world away.

Eventually, of course, I realised that my worst fear was just a dream and just like that, my recurring nightmare just stopped. While it still lives with me after all these years, I’m grateful for it in many ways. It’s my only memory of my first home. We moved to the UK soon after and my dreams and worries moved on too.

Back here in Scotland in 2025, where tigers are only seen on screens, I plan to write about things I’m grateful for. I don’t think the world needs my thoughts about our shared real-life nightmares beyond the 300-character limit on Bluesky. But I’m also happy to let this evolve and discover what it becomes together.

Extra thought: You should watch The Pitt. It’s fantastically entertaining TV.