A page a day, for a year
Still Yours
Discovering your agency — and learning to love your solo self — in a distracting, seemingly uncaring time.
It starts in the wreck. No fine beginning, no audience. That's allowed here.
Fifty-two weeks. Six small pages a week and a day of rest. Each page: a true line from someone who walked a hard road, and one small way to write, reflect, or do — to enhance your agency, engage with life, and set down what hides the better self. Your narrator is Prohairesis, an old word for the part of you that chooses. Your words stay on your device; you can download your year any time and keep writing in it.
Before the first page
One honest thing first.
This is a book, and writing can hold a great deal — but it is not therapy and not a substitute for it. It sits beside a hard thing; it doesn't fix it.
If part of you is in real danger right now — thoughts of harming yourself, a night that's too much — the bravest page isn't this one. It's a person. In the US: call or text 988, text HOME to 741741, or call 911. Elsewhere, your local crisis line. The book keeps; come back when you're steady.
Every book has an author
Whose name goes on the cover?
This one is yours, so the author is you. A first name, a private name, a single letter — whatever you'd sign. You can leave it blank; the book is still yours.
Nothing is sent anywhere. No account. Your words live only on this device.
Your year
The Year Map
Fifty-two weeks, eleven turns. Week 1 is open now; the rest unlock as the year is written. A ✓ marks a week you've left words in.