We closed the project, and for once I had dinner without thinking about it
The day went sideways until six, then the signature and the good quiet that follows. No screens tonight.
Your journal, spoken
Talk for two minutes. Dayalogue turns your voice into a private page, ready to return to.
A small ritual
Two minutes, out loud.
The day becomes a page.
Your life, ready to revisit.
Hold the button and tell it. Silence is not recorded. If you would rather write, you write.
Every day leaves already encrypted. Nobody can read it, not even the people who made the app.
No account, no card, no ads. The AI is a gift for ten days.
How it works
1:42
Listening
...they moved the meeting to Monday, which is fine. Then tonight, around nine, Marco called. Two years since we last spoke...
Hold. Let go when you are done.
Two minutes with the microphone held down. Or you write, if it is one of those evenings.
Who is Marco?
"...Marco called. Two years since we last spoke..."
A friend from university
Headline, summary, people, tasks. If a name is unclear, it asks.
The month, a single day, or the recap that arrives on its own.
If you choose to keep your journal in the cloud too, the backup is encrypted with an eight-word key that only you hold. Without those eight words the journal never opens again: not by us, not by anyone.
Your dayThursday 27 August
Shipped the project, and Marco called after two yearsThe day started badly and straightened out at six. Work is done; what stays with me is that phone call.
Your keyEight words
Keep them with a screenshot, or leave them in the iCloud keychain. They never pass through us.
You can keep the journal on your device alone. If you save it to the cloud too, it goes up already encrypted.
Lose the eight words and your devices and you lose the journal. Nobody can recover it: that is the point.
Your day, written
Two minutes of words become a clear, intimate page, ready to return to.
The day went sideways until six, then the signature and the good quiet that follows. No screens tonight.
...today we finally finished the project.
I was about to go to bed. Forty-three minutes on the phone, as if no time had passed. Tomorrow I call him.
...then Marco called me. After two years.
A headline that remembers, two lines that tell.
From your camera roll, as thumbnails, next to the words.
The numbers you say out loud land in their boxes.
Your words. A life that feels more yours.
What is inside
Hold the microphone and talk. At the end you fix names if needed, and the day is saved: headline, summary, areas, people, measures, goals. And the day's photos, from your camera roll.
See what it looks likeShipped the project, and Marco called after two years
The day started badly and straightened out at six. Work is done; what stays with me is that phone call.
One line per day on the phone, a grid on the computer. Full days open up, empty days stay empty without telling you off.
Go to the monthThe things you mention while talking end up here by themselves. People also become the vocabulary of the transcription: your friends' names stop coming out wrong.
Open MemoEnd of month, end of half-year, end of year: a written text, not a list of statistics. It is there to remind you how you were, not how many times you went to the gym.
Read a recapCarta, Minimal, Macchina, Malva, Wine. The site follows the theme you chose in the app.
Also in what the AI writes: headline, summary, recaps.
How was your day? Com'e andata oggi?
How you start
No questions the first time. When you want to find your days on another device, we will ask for an email. No passwords, ever.
Guest
No account, no questions.
Account
We ask you, after five days. No password.
Premium
For those who tell every evening.
When the gift ends, only the AI ends: writing, saving and reading back stay free, forever. No ads, ever.
Questions
Writing, saving and reading back is free forever. The AI is a gift for ten days, then unlimited with premium.
On your device. With an account also on the server, but locked before they leave: nobody can read them, not even us.
No person. The text leaves the device only when you ask the AI to work on it: it goes through OpenAI's models to be transcribed and summarised, it is not stored and it is not used to train anything.
With an account and your eight words you get everything back elsewhere. Without them, it cannot be recovered: nobody has the key.
Yes, whenever: one file with everything, which you can re-import anywhere. And the account deletes from inside the app.
The iPhone app is coming to the App Store, and that is where premium is switched on. But Dayalogue does not live only inside the app: it also runs in the browser, and installs on your Home screen as if it were one. The account is the same — with premium you sign in from any browser, on any device, and find the journal where you left it.
No pen, no blank page. Just say how it went.