a voice journal
for daily
reflection.
you talk. it does the writing. the voice stays yours.
your phone does the listening. we never receive the audio.
try to remember last tuesday. really try.
already fuzzy, isn't it?
nothing to sit down to.
like catching a friend up on your day. a thought lands at 3pm and you say it in ten seconds. a minute in the morning, a minute at night. that's the whole practice — the writing happens on its own.
- 7:41a
slept badly. going for the run anyway.
- 12:06p
the meeting was fine. dreaded it for nothing.
- 4:52p
the thing i'd been putting off took nine minutes.
- 9:38p
walked the long way home on purpose.
what's today about?
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.Annie Dillard
a minute in the morning, so you walk in already knowing what today's for.
how'd it go?
We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.Anaïs Nin
everything you dropped through the day comes back as one entry — in your words, not a stranger's. nothing invented.
kept,
not lost.
each day you talk becomes an entry you keep. they pile up, and one day it's the journal you never got around to writing.
a year of
ordinary days.
journaling for people who don't feel like journaling.
you've thought "I should write this down" a hundred times and never did. you've got a running commentary in your head, and you wish more of it stuck. you'd rather talk than stare down a blank page. that's exactly who this is for.
why I made this.
what scared me was forgetting. not just the ordinary days. the big things too. what I got done, the people I met, stretches of time I'd want back and can't get to.
so I keep a journal, a google doc. I write in it maybe once a month, still today, because by the time I sit down, I have to reconstruct two whole weeks from memory just to figure out what mattered. that's the part that stops me, every time.
and it nagged at me that the doc is the thing under everything else. whatever you're trying to do next, it runs on being able to hold onto what happened and pick it up tomorrow.
so I made the version I'd actually keep. a dozen wrong turns later, it comes out simple. you talk for a minute while the day's still fresh, so there's nothing to reconstruct and no blank page to fill, and it writes the day back in your own voice, not some stranger who skimmed it. that's the whole thing.
— Alan
be there when it lands.
we'll email you the day it lands. but first, I want to hear from the people I'm building this for. one question.
kept.
you're on the list. p.s. I read every note — it's the whole reason I asked.
