A long life is about four thousand weeks.
This app shows you all of them at once. One quiet grid, one small circle for every week. The weeks you have lived are filled in ink. The week you are in breathes at the edge. The rest wait, open.
A memento mori you can hold.
Each day the app offers one thing to consider and one question to sit with. Some days it counts what is ahead: the springs, the full moons, the conversations left if you call the people you love twice a month. Some days it simply asks what would make this week count.
The grid
Four thousand weeks at a glance, the current one breathing. Pinch, and they gather into months, seasons, years, the way a life looks from further away.
One lens a day
A single number and a line to feel it by. The same lens for everyone on Earth, on the same day. A shared moment, not a personalized feed.
One question a day
365 questions, one per day, none repeated in a year. Ruled paper for one honest line, kept privately on your device.
The breath
Box breathing, four in, four hold, four out, four hold, one press away. With a moment to settle before it begins, and no timer judging you after.
The Sunday review
The week does not close itself. It fills only when you have looked at it, answered one question, and set an intention for the next.
Nothing else
No streaks, no badges, no engagement notifications. The app will never try to keep you. Glance, breathe, and put the phone down.
Your name, your dates, and every line you write stay on your device. We collect nothing. We could not read your journal if we wanted to, and we have made sure we never want to.
Read the whole privacy policyA person answers.
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