Get what's in your head out.
Inlet is a private, AI-driven journaling assistant. It helps you remember the most important parts of your life. You already spend idle minutes scrolling something. Inlet takes those minutes and gives you something back.
It's not a diary
A diary just holds what you wrote and forgets it there. Inlet reads what you've written and builds a living picture of you. It looks both directions at once: the path behind you — what happened, what mattered — and the path ahead — the aims you're carrying, the loops you left open, the things you meant to get back to. It stays current as you go.
You talk to it through a feed
Every item in the feed is a prompt — something to think about or something to do. Nothing is filler. It never runs dry, but it doesn't trap you in an endless scroll either: it loads in small groups behind a break, so you stop when you want to.
Capture is the whole point
No forms, no ceremony. Type an answer and press Save — Inlet is keeping it as you go anyway, so nothing is ever lost, and the one-tap answers need no button at all. Or talk instead: hold the Voice button for a quick line, or tap it and keep going hands-free. It types what you say, the field grows to keep up, and a short sound tells you when it started listening and when it stopped. Photos go on anything. The more you use it, the better it knows what to ask — Inlet learns from the feed itself instead of making you fill out a settings page.
Your day, written up
At the end of the day Inlet turns what you put down into a real entry, written as you — and keeps your own notes word for word beside it, not instead of them. Your Diary has a tab for each: Entries is what you actually wrote, Stories is what Inlet wrote up, and Aims is what you're carrying — plus Games, a short daily round built from your own days. Search finds any of your own words back, however long ago you wrote them.
Set where you're headed
Inlet doesn't just look back. Set a simple aim for the day — “When I get home, I'll call Dad” — and Inlet brings it back to ask where it landed: done, still going, or let go. What you meant to do stops slipping through the cracks.
It comes to you
One reminder a day, at a time you pick — coffee time, afternoon, after dinner, or overnight if you ask for that by name — and it's skipped on days you've already written. Take it on your phone, by email, or as a subscription your calendar app picks up. When there's enough to look back on, your week gets written up too — at most once a week, by email or on your phone. Turn any of it off, or pause the lot. Miss a day and nothing scolds you.
It shows its work
Inlet works only from what you put down — no invented events, no feelings you didn't describe, nothing flattering you didn't write yourself. The short list it keeps of what matters to you right now is held to that in code: every line on it has to point at the note it came from, and one that can't point back gets deleted before it's saved. How it works walks through the whole mechanism, receipts and all.
Together, but private
Inlet is better with the people you care about, and none of it costs you your privacy. Add someone and the two of you become connections: they see that you're showing up, and they can cheer you on — one tap, no message, carrying nothing else. A group is just a set of connections cheering each other on, and a group by itself grants no access to anything you wrote.
The one thing that ever crosses is an entry you tagged someone in and chose to share. Inlet asks you at the moment you save it, it shares that one entry and nothing around it, and you can stop sharing it any time — or delete it. There is no public profile here, no audience, and no way for anyone to browse your journal.