I was in the last month before an exam when a friend told me to watch Spider-Man: Brand New Day.
I remember exactly what I said. “Not now — I’ll watch it after the exam.” I meant it. I even felt good about it, the way you do when you postpone something you are genuinely looking forward to.
The exam finished on a Friday. That evening I sat down free for the first time in months, opened three apps one after another, and scrolled for forty minutes. I could not think of a single thing to watch. I went to bed at eleven.
Weeks later that same friend asked whether I had seen it yet. I hadn’t. I had wanted to. I just never once thought of it at a moment when I could actually do anything about it.
Once I noticed that shape, I started seeing it everywhere. The documents I needed the week of an application — spread across four folders, an email I had sent to myself, and a WhatsApp thread with my own name on it. I knew I had scanned the certificate. I could not find the scan. My mother’s birthday, remembered two days late, most years, by someone who loves her.
We are not bad at caring. We are bad at holding. And almost every app answers that by handing you a sixth thing to check, as though the problem were that you weren’t organised enough.
So I built the opposite. Something you tell once, in whatever words come out — and that does the remembering on your behalf. Then I gave it hands, so it could act on what it knew instead of just filing it somewhere tidy.
There are four things I decided it would never do. I would rather say them here than bury them in a policy page:
It is early, and there is a great deal left to build. But that is why it exists — and those four will not change.