Ember is a diary for the things you wouldn't say out loud yet. The day you almost quit. The walk that fixed you. The sentence your mother said in 2007 that you still think about. It's not a notebook for productivity or a journal for habits. It's a place to write the way you'd write to yourself at three in the morning, when nobody is watching and the sentences don't have to be good. The page is plain on purpose. Fraunces or Lora for the writing, set at a size that doesn't make you squint. A title field that doesn't ask much. A small line for the weather, the mood, the song that was playing. Voice memos when typing feels like too much. Photos when a photo says it faster. A drawing layer for the days a doodle is the whole entry. Each morning, one prompt, if you want one. Ignore it if you don't. Everything you write stays on this iPhone, encrypted with AES-GCM the moment you tap save. There is no Ember server. No account to make. No analytics looking over your shoulder. If you turn on iCloud sync, your entries travel encrypted and stay encrypted on Apple's end too — we couldn't read them if we tried, and we built it that way on purpose. Ember is ¥500 once. That's the whole price. Every future update is included. No subscription, no auto-renewal, no popups asking you to upgrade in eighteen months. Export to Markdown or PDF whenever you like, and take what you wrote with you. The diary is yours; we're just the room it sits in. Write something today. Even one line.
