You didn't need twelve tools. You needed one place that doesn't make you perform the act of being organised. Thinking shouldn't feel like admin.

Every tab you have open is a thought you didn't finish. Every tool switch is a sentence you lost mid-word. You don't need fewer ideas. You need one place that holds them all and quietly reminds you what they meant. When's the last time something you wrote found you back?

You didn't stop reading. You stopped being able to find what you read. Every article, every highlight, every "save for later" was a promise. Not broken. Just buried. What if the pile wasn't the problem? What if it was always a well, and you just needed a way to draw from it?

We built a thing last week that searches by meaning, not just words. Typed "that argument about memory and identity" and it pulled up a note from March we'd completely forgotten. We didn't tag it. Didn't file it. Just wrote it and moved on.

Week 51. Shipped something small. Then used it to find a conversation from March that changed how we're building everything else. The best features aren't the ones you ship. They're the ones that find what you forgot you knew.

What's the last idea you lost between tools? Not forgot. Lost. You wrote it down, somewhere, in one of twelve apps. It's still there. You just can't feel where. We started building because that feeling got unbearable.

Every tool you rely on has a terms of service update waiting to change the deal. Your thoughts shouldn't come with a licence agreement. What would you build differently if your data could never be taken from you?

Experiment: I searched my notes for "that paper about memory and place" and found something I saved nineteen months ago. I'd forgotten it existed. The words I used weren't even close to the title. But the meaning was.

You didn't need twelve tabs. You needed one place that actually holds a thought long enough to finish it. The tools weren't the system. They were the busywork.

When was the last time you actually wrote something in your notes app instead of reorganising it?

That thing where you open your notes app and immediately forget why you're there. Meos doesn't need you to remember. It already knows what you meant. #illustration #art

Every tool you add is a tiny fracture in your attention. Twelve tabs open. Zero thoughts finished. What if the cost of "staying organised" is never actually thinking? The best system you'll ever build is one place that holds everything... and quietly connects it when you're not looking.

Most thinking tools want you to build a system before you've had a single thought. Meos just listens. On your phone, in your own words, with AI that knows your context... not the internet's. You don't need a workflow. You need a companion. #clinicalresearch #medtech → getmeos.com

You remember the feeling but not the file. Meos remembers both. #podcast #indiepodcast

I gave Meos a single journal entry from two years ago and asked it to find something I'd written that rhymed with it. Not the words. The feeling. It pulled up a grocery list. #podcast #indiepodcast

We built a search for our own notes last week. Typed "that paper about memory and place" with no title, no tags, no date. It found the thing. From eight months ago. We'd forgotten we even saved it.

You didn't stop reading. You stopped being able to find what you read. Every article, every highlight, every "save for later" was a promise you made to your future self.

Week 51. Shipped something small. Searched for a half-remembered idea from months ago. Three words in, there it was. We didn't build search. We built the feeling of never quite losing things. When did you last find something you forgot you knew?

Honest question for anyone building in public: when did you last go looking for something you wrote three months ago and actually find it?

Experiment: I searched my notes for "that paper about memory and forgetting" and it found a highlight I saved eleven months ago. No tags. No folder. No title I'd remember. The pile isn't the problem. The pile is a library without a librarian.

What if the problem isn't that you're disorganised... it's that you're organised across twelve different places?

Every tool you use has a terms of service. Your own thoughts shouldn't. Your notes live on your device. No account. No cloud. No one between you and what you wrote. When did we start renting access to our own thinking?

The best thing I ever wrote is something I can't remember writing. Meos found it for me last week. By feeling, not filename. #privacy #localfirst

You don't forget ideas because your memory is bad. You forget them because nothing around you was listening. Meos listens. Locally. Quietly. With your own words, not the internet's. #offlinefirst #localfirst

When was the last time you wrote something in your notes app that wasn't a template, a tag, or a metadata field?

Every tab you have open is a thought you couldn't finish. Every tool switch is a sentence you lost mid-breath. You don't need fewer ideas. You need one place that holds them all... and quietly notices what connects.

You're mid-sentence and the word you need is gone. Not the word. The idea behind it. You wrote it somewhere, months ago, but where? This is the quiet tax of thinking across time. Every insight you've ever had lives somewhere in your past. Most of them, you'll never find again. #privacy #localfirst

When you're building something and your own tool finds a note you wrote months ago that solves today's problem... is that luck or is that the whole point? We keep asking ourselves this while building Meos. getmeos.com #illustration #art

We keep building Meos because our best thoughts kept outliving our memory. #illustration #art

We built a search that doesn't need you to remember the words. Just the shape of the idea. Last week it pulled up a note from February none of us remembered saving. Connected it to something from last Thursday. The pile didn't shrink. It just started answering back.

We built Meos because we kept losing arguments with our own notes. #privacy #localfirst

When did you start accepting that a company you've never met holds every thought you've ever saved? Meos keeps yours on your device. No account. No cloud. No asking permission to think. #offlinefirst #localfirst getmeos.com ✦

You didn't stop reading. You stopped being able to find what you read. Every article, every highlight, every PDF. It's all still in there somewhere. Buried under the guilt of not organising it.

Week 51. Shipped something small. Then it surfaced a sketch from March that made the whole feature click. We didn't search for it. We'd forgotten it existed. Building a tool you actually use changes what you build.

You don't need a system. You need a companion. A system demands you maintain it. A companion just walks alongside you, noticing things you missed. Meos doesn't ask you to organise anything. You write. It remembers. Months later, it finds the thread you couldn't name. #privacy #localfirst

You wrote it down so you wouldn't forget it. Then you forgot where you wrote it down. That's the whole cycle. Every app, every system, every "second brain" method. You capture beautifully. You retrieve nothing. #privacy #localfirst

Your phone dreamed your old notes back to you. Meos does that. #offlinefirst #localfirst

What if the smartest AI you could talk to wasn't trained on the internet... but on everything you've already thought?

Experiment: I searched my notes for "that paper about memory and place" and it found an article I clipped nine months ago about spatial cognition. I didn't remember the title. I barely remembered reading it. But the meaning was still there, waiting.

You built the thing. You wrote the docs. You mapped the whole system in your head. Then the app sunset, and took your thinking with it. Your work should outlive every company you trust with it.

You didn't need twelve tabs. You needed one place that actually thinks with you. Somewhere between the fourth app and the seventh context switch, the idea quietly left. It's still there. You just need somewhere it can land.

Built Meos because I kept losing arguments with my own memory. #privacy #localfirst → getmeos.com

When was the last time you opened your notes to write something new... and didn't get pulled into fixing a broken template instead?

Every tool you add promises clarity. Twelve tabs later you're managing the tools instead of thinking. The tax isn't the subscription. It's the context you lose every time you switch. What if one place held everything you thought... and quietly reminded you what it all meant together?

You ever write something late at night that felt important, then lose it completely by morning? Meos doesn't forget like you do. It holds the thread quietly, on your device, until you're ready to pull it again. #privacy #localfirst

Everyone's got a "second brain" app. Nobody's got a first brain that's less exhausted. Meos doesn't ask you to organise. It just remembers. On your device, in your own words, by meaning not keywords. #privacy #localfirst

Most tools want you to be more disciplined. File this here. Tag that there. Build a system. Maintain the system. Serve the system. Meos doesn't ask you to be more disciplined. It just pays attention to what you already think. #privacy #localfirst → getmeos.com

We built a search that doesn't need you to remember the words. Just the shape of the idea. Last week it pulled up a note from February that connected to something we wrote yesterday. We hadn't tagged it. Hadn't filed it. Hadn't thought about it once.

You organise your notes once a year like it's spring cleaning for your brain. Then by February you're back to searching "that thing" and scrolling. Meos just lets meaning do the finding. No folders to abandon. #offlinefirst #localfirst

You didn't stop reading. You stopped being able to find what you read. Every article, every highlight, every "save for later" was a promise. Not to productivity. To your future self. The guilt isn't that you saved too much. It's that none of it can find you back.