90 / 180 / 365 days. One letter. No notifications.
No sterile AI lectures, just the romance of time.
Write a secret to your future self.
We promise to safely seal your memory and unlock it in your inbox at midnight,
after the days you've chosen.
— 01 —
Tap the wax to open. This is the exact email that will land in your inbox at midnight,
after the days you chose.
Your letter, one year ago
Tonight feels heavier than it should. I keep telling everyone I'm fine. I'm writing this because I need somewhere honest to put it. If you are reading this, please — be a little gentler with me than I was tonight.
— We do not analyse, score, or summarise your letter today.
— We do not send you reminders, nudges, or notifications.
— We seal your words, set a timer, and disappear from your life for 365 nights.
— 02 —
Write slowly. No one is rushing you here.
— 03 —
Three letters, unsealed.
The night-time, the morning-after,
and the countless yesterdays we gritted our teeth through.
— Oliver, to his best friend · London
A year ago, they wrote
I'm sealing this secretly for you, Liam. Tonight you said you're moving across the world for a new journey. You looked terrified. Honestly, I'm scared too — things change so fast. But wherever you are in one year, I hope you read this with a smile. We are still brothers.
Tonight, an old friend writes back
Liam. One year ago, Oliver sealed this promise in the dark. Time moved forward, and you crossed an ocean. Look at where you stand now. The fear you carried turned into the starting line of your finest chapter. Call him tonight; a year of waiting is over.
— Wing · 香港
A year ago, they wrote
我喺尖沙咀地鐵站哭咗成廿分鐘，冇人理我。我以為大人就唔會係咁。今晚我答應自己，明年呢一日，我要記得自己曾經咁辛苦。
Tonight, an old friend writes back
阿 Wing，去年你企喺月台嗰個位，我都企喺你身邊，只係你睇唔到我。你以為大人就應該堅強——其實大人都可以喺地鐵站靜靜地喊，你已經做得很好了。今晚嘅你，應該已經坐喺一個比較安靜嘅地方。請替當年嗰個滿眼淚水、卻依然撐到落尾嘅自己，講一聲謝謝。 輕舟已過萬重山，你做得好好。
— 之远 · 上海
A year ago, they wrote
我跟他分开了。不是吵架的那种，是慢慢就没有话讲的那种。我把所有合照存进了一个加密文件夹，然后假装自己很冷静。今晚我不想任何人来安慰我。
Tonight, an old friend writes back
之远。一年了。那个加密文件夹你大概已经不会再去打开了，但你也没有删掉它，对吧。这就是大人的告别——不删，不看，让它在某个角落静静地存在。今晚的你，应该已经能笑着提起他了。即使还会停顿一下，也已经，很好了。
— 04 —
It feels very different.
A letter hidden in your drawer is never truly forgotten. Every time you clean your room or open that drawer, your brain triggers that memory.
On day 365, you open it intentionally. It's a chore, not a miracle.
At MiProse, we safeguard your memory until you completely lose it to the chaos of daily life. Then, on a random midnight a year later when you least expect it, this letter suddenly knocks on your inbox — like an unexpected embrace from the past.
Most importantly, you are not talking to a wall. Alongside your raw words from a year ago, you will receive a profoundly warm, poetic reply from our AI Old Friend who has witnessed your journey and calls you by name. That feeling of 'the heavy ship has finally passed ten thousand mountains' is a sensation a dusty piece of paper in your drawer can never give you.
— 05 —
Everywhere you turn, an AI is ready to fix you. Summarise your day, optimise your sleep, rewrite your feelings into bullet points. We were tired.
MiProse is the opposite of that. Write something honest. Hand it to time. We will not touch it, score it, or learn from it. In a year, an old friend (yes, still an AI — but a quiet, literary one) will write you back. Just once.
Made with Emergent
