Mori
Mori, a small glowing stone companion

Tap Mori. Hold it, or stroke it.

A diary that stays yours.

Open it, talk or write, and the day is kept, encrypted, on your phone. No account needed. No analytics, no advertising, nothing watching.

Coming soon to the App Store Coming soon to Google Play

Not released yet. Android first, iOS follows.


Demo

A quick look at Mori.

Six things it does. Swipe through them.

Drag a card aside to see the next.


How it works

Three steps, then it's yours.

The whole product is one loop, and it is deliberately short. Nothing else in the app asks anything of you.

  1. Speak, or type

    Talk to Mori and it listens, or write if you'd rather. Speech is turned into text by software running on your own phone. Your voice is never uploaded to be transcribed.

  2. Read it back

    Mori tidies the transcript (removes the ums, fixes the spacing) and shows you what changed. It only ever removes or reformats words you actually said. It cannot add any.

  3. Keep it

    Add a mood if you want one, or don't. It lands in your journal, searchable and on a calendar. Sign in and it is saved to your cloud account too, waiting on every device you use.

Why it's different

A diary nobody else can read.

Most journalling apps need an account before you write a word, and quietly send what you write somewhere. Mori's default is the opposite: it works completely, with no account at all, and then nothing you write ever leaves the phone.

  • Encrypted on the device. The diary is stored with SQLCipher, and the key never leaves your phone's keystore.
  • Speech never leaves. Transcription runs inside the app. There is no speech service and no API key.
  • No analytics. No crash reporting. No ads. Not "anonymised". None, at all.
  • Lock it. A PIN or your fingerprint, an automatic lock, and Mori is blank in the app switcher and to screenshots.
  • Take it with you. Export the lot as PDF, text or Markdown, any time, without asking us.
  • Sync only if you want it. An optional account copies your diary to a second device. Skip it and lose nothing.
What's in it

Everything a diary needs. Nothing that nags.

Voice entries

Speak and it becomes an entry. Pause, resume, or throw it away. The recording is kept so you can hear the day again, not just read it.

Honest tidying

Filler words go, sentences break where you paused. You can see every change and undo it. By construction it can never invent a detail.

Moods, unranked

Five moods, tapped by you and never guessed. Always skippable, never charted, never scored. A bad week is not a failing grade.

Find any day

Full-text search, a month calendar with a dot on the days you wrote, and filters for mood, photos, voice or date.

Photographs

Up to five per entry, reorderable. Location data is stripped on the way in, so a photo you attach doesn't carry where you took it.

A gentle nudge

Pick a time and the days that suit you. Reminders can stay private, showing nothing of what you wrote. Miss one and Mori says nothing.

Real backups

One encrypted file holding everything: entries, photos, recordings. Only your passphrase opens it. Not even we can.

Optional sync

Make an account and your diary reaches your other phone. Don't, and the app is exactly as complete. Signing out never deletes anything.

The companion

This is Mori.

A small stone that lives in the app and reacts to you. It listens while you speak, thinks while it works, and rests when you're done. It has no opinions about your streak.

Mori, reacting to the state you choose
Choose one of Mori's states
  • “Mori is here.”

    Plainly

    Two things Mori will never do.

    It will never put words in your mouth.
    The tidy-up is a fixed set of rules, not a generative model. It can drop a filler word or fix a line break, and it shows you every change. It physically cannot add a sentence you never said, and that is enforced in how the code is built rather than promised in a policy.
    It will never chase you.
    No streaks, no badges, no "you haven't written in 4 days". Write every night or twice a year. If you stop for a month, Mori will be exactly where you left it, and it will not mention it.