Notes
How in.between holds what the night gives you — and how every room in the house works. Write. She sits with you. The nights start to file themselves.
How in.between holds what the night gives you — and how every room in the house works. Write. She sits with you. The nights start to file themselves.
All 63 notes, in the order the house is arranged — starting at the door and working inward.
From the door to your first night. The composer, first lines for the mornings the night is gone, and when a fragment is its own entry.
Every room in the house — Journals and Folders, the Index, Clues, Tracking, Paradigm, Markers, Sleep, and the stills.
Nalani: who she is, how she talks, what she remembers, and what changes when you speak instead of type.
What in.between is not. No feed, no audience, no verdict — and what happens to a night you decide to delete.
Phone, desk, and the one account between them. Naming a journal, finding it again, and picking a thread back up.
Your account, the free Traveler room, the larger writing rooms, spoken minutes, and where the bills live.
Notes is the written manual for in.between, a private dream journal. It is 63 short pages, each about a single thing — writing a night down, reading it back weeks later, or living with what the nights turn out to keep returning to. There is no order you have to follow. Open the one that matches the question you actually have.
in.between is a private dream journal for the hour after waking. You write the night down — typed into the composer, or spoken out loud with Nalani, the companion who sits with you — and the house files it. Journals hold the nights themselves. Tracking is the calendar of the nights you actually wrote. The Index collects the people, places, weather and feelings a night leaves behind. Paradigm is the map, where nights become pins and the threads between them. Markers is the wall of stills. Companion is Nalani out loud. Each of those rooms has its own notes below.
Every note belongs to one of six groups, and both the sidebar and the index above follow the same order — the door first, then the rooms, then the things you only wonder about once you have been here a while.
There is no dream dictionary here, and no note that tells you what a symbol means. Nalani is a companion, not a clinic and not a verdict — she will sit with a heavy night, and she will also point you toward a real person. There is no feed, no audience, and nothing here is scored. Quiet nights count; the house is built for return, not for a streak.
Two kinds of reader. Someone who just opened the door and wants to know what to type at 4am when a single image is all that is left — those notes are in Get started. And someone months in who wants to know why a thread appeared on the map, what fills the Index, or what happens to spoken minutes when they change writing rooms. Most people arrive on one note from a search, read it, and leave. That is what the notes are shaped for.
in.between runs in the browser on both phone and desktop, and there is a signed Mac app for people who want it in the Dock. The iPhone app is on the App Store — same house, same account, in your pocket.