Almost nothing you decided to do got rejected. It got postponed — once, reasonably, with a trigger like “when things calm down” — and then nothing in the world was ever able to evaluate that trigger, so it was never looked at again. INTERKEPT is built around refusing that one move.
Not dramatically. Quietly, and with your full agreement at the time. The sentence that kills a plan always sounds responsible — and it is unfalsifiable, so it can never come due.
This is the whole thesis. Everything else in the product exists to make that one exchange survivable — so that saying “not now” twelve times a week costs you nothing, and loses you nothing.
On the board. Carrying an urgency score that is recomputed every night from things that are already true.
You gave it a date. It leaves the active list entirely — it is not nagging you — but it is counted, and you can see the whole sleeping set whenever you want.
Its date arrived. It returns to the top of the board with the note you wrote and the number of days it has been due.
Parked with no date, and sitting untouched past 30 days. Not deleted, not hidden — named. Past 90 days it is called rotting outright.
The defer dialog will not accept a condition, and it will not accept a date in the past. Both refusals are on the server, not just the form — so the rule holds no matter what is talking to it.
Every defer increments a counter on that item. At three you are told plainly: mis-sized, or no clear first action — split it or kill it. At five: decide whether it dies.
Nothing is ever auto-abandoned. Abandoning something is a decision, and a tool that makes it for you is one you stop trusting with anything that matters. Pulling an item forward deliberately does not touch that counter either — otherwise the number stops measuring avoidance and starts measuring activity.
A silo is a standing priority, not a task: Renew the professional licence, Dad’s hearing test. It gets a stable id (IK-CERT-001), a body you can write freely in, and a full version history — every edit snapshots the previous text before it changes, so nothing you wrote is ever overwritten out of existence.
An append-only log of thoughts, decisions, sensory notes, defers and captures. Nothing is edited and nothing is deleted. When you cannot remember why you decided something, this is the only honest answer — and it is written automatically as a side effect of using the thing, not as extra homework.
Separate on purpose. Priorities are things you care about; the queue holds the single concrete moves — ring the licensing board — each one carrying its own defer count and wake date. Sorted by how much you have been avoiding it, not by when you typed it.
Every night each priority’s score is rebuilt from four things that are already true, and the reason is written next to the number — so it is never magic:
Setting a priority to zero means parked on purpose, and nothing resurrects it except a date you set yourself.
Type “booked the boiler guy for Thursday, and the passport thing opened today” into one box. It completes the task, opens the priority, and logs both to the stream. You are not filling in a form; you are telling it what happened.
It runs on a local model on our own hardware first, so the ordinary path costs nothing and leaves the building only when it has to. And when the model is unreachable, the sentence still becomes a task — it degrades to capture, never to loss. That is a rule, not a hope: an earlier build failed silently instead, and every message you typed quietly turned into a dumb task while claiming to be smart.
Every night it rewrites a short honest read of where you actually are — is today heavy, is this a hard week, are you behind — and the one or two things that matter today. Push is a single living status line that replaces itself, not a stack of buzzes.
If your problem is remembering to buy milk, a notes app is fine and cheaper. This is for the other failure — the one where you are capable, you made a good decision, you wrote it down, and eight weeks later it is a crisis you had already solved once.
It has been running as one person’s real daily tool for months before being offered to anyone else — which is why the mechanic is opinionated rather than configurable. The opinions are the product.
We do not sell it, mine it for advertising, or train anything public on it. There are no third-party trackers on this page or in the app.
Every read and write is scoped to your account at the database layer, and that isolation is verified by a two-account test rather than by reading the code and hoping.
Editing a priority snapshots the old text first. Nothing you wrote is destroyed by an edit, including one you made at 3am.
Nightly, off this machine. Passwords are stored as bcrypt hashes and are not recoverable by us — only resettable by you.
Deferring, waking, rotting, urgency, the stream, the queue, push — all free, forever, with no card. The paid line is drawn at volume and AI, because those are the two things that actually cost us money to run.
If you lapse from Pro, nothing is deleted and nothing is hidden. The limits only ever block adding. Losing access to something you already wrote down is not an acceptable downgrade — it is how a billing bug becomes data loss.
Give one of them a date and a sentence, and find out how much of it was never actually abandoned.
12 priorities · full mechanic · export or delete whenever you want