The dream journal · for the two of you

two journals.one shared sky.

Each of you keeps your own page, fully private. In the middle, the symbols and rooms you both dream this week begin to glow. A quiet, single place to know yourselves through your nights — and to talk about them.

Begin together — seven nights free, with a card.

i. press once before you open your eyesii. we write it down for youiii. on sunday morning, one quiet letter — about the week you slept through together

Card on file — cancel any morning, we email you two days before it converts.

9:41

Hold to record

or tap once to start

This is the whole interface.

Mayatonight, both of youLior

and what the two of you both dreamt.

Turn the page
For two

what you both dream,
in the middle.

A quiet shared room for two. Each of you keeps your own journal. In the middle, the symbols, the moods, and the small recurring rooms you both wander begin to overlap. The closeness, made visible — without ever leaving anyone’s sleep behind.

live preview · maya & lior
Mayatonight, both of youLior

the things in the middle are what they both dreamt this week. hover a side to see whose dreams hold what.

Ways to discuss your dreams together

Two journals, one sky

Each of you keeps your own page. In the middle, the things you both dreamt this week begin to glow.

A written conversation about your week

One quiet paragraph, sent to both of you on Sunday morning. The starting point of a conversation you'll have over coffee.

A shared vocabulary for what keeps returning

Build your own dictionary together: what the ocean means to you, what the white room means to them. Save it, edit it, talk about it.

Intimate, kept intimate

Sensual dreams stay in a private vault until you choose to share. A slow, deliberate gesture — never a tap.

seven nights free

Try it together for a week.

Begin together with a card on file. We'll write you a quiet email two days before the trial ends. Cancel any morning, no questions.

$27.99 a month, both of you · or $219 a year

Editor’s letter

From the studio
Pavia, Italy

ne morning my partner and I realised we’d both dreamed about the same kitchen — different doors, different weather, the same kitchen. We sat with our coffee and tried to describe it to each other, and the conversation lasted longer than either of us expected. That breakfast is the whole reason this app exists.

I forgot the most beautiful dream I’ve ever had, once. It was about my grandfather — I remember crying in it, and laughing in it, and that’s all I have left of it. I built this so neither of us would keep losing them. Then I realised what we were really losing was the chance to find each other inside them.

For seven years I’ve made tools for medical students. Quiet, careful tools. Things that have to work at three in the morning when you’re tired and a little scared. This one had to be the same. The dreams arrive at the same hour, and they arrive for two of you at once.

The whole interface is one button. Hold it before you open your eyes, talk for as long as you remember anything, and let go. The page writes itself by the time you’re back from the kitchen — while the person next to you is doing the same on their own phone.

Two journals, your own pages, fully private. In the middle, a small constellation where the things you both dream this week begin to glow. On Sunday morning, one quiet paragraph about the week you slept through together. That’s the whole thing. Nothing raises its voice. No streak, no reminder, no badge.

I hope you find a few of yours, together with the person who sleeps next to you.

Ari Horesh · Pavia

Some things are too soft to type.
The ritual

Three small things,
done at the same hour.

A ritual you’ll forget you started doing — until your journal fills, and you remember what you’ve dreamed.

  1. Hold once

    Hold the gold dot before
    you open your eyes.

    One button. No menus. The dot breathes with you so you remember it’s on. Talk for as long as you remember anything, then let go.

    9:41

    Hold to record

    or tap once to start

    ≈ 12 seconds

  2. Walk to the kitchen

    By the time the kettle boils,
    the page is waiting for you.

    We write it down for you, give it a small italic title, find a colour for the mood, and tag the things that mattered. You can fix any word with one tap.

    9:41

    ≈ 11 seconds

  3. After a few weeks

    Notice the things
    that keep coming back.

    We line up the nights — yours and your partner’s — and quietly mark what repeats. In the middle, the symbols and rooms you both dream this week begin to glow. The interpretation, alone or together, is yours to make.

    Patterns · last 30 days

    Apr 14the long hallway
    Apr 17lake of paper boats
    Apr 21old friend, no door

    ≈ 14 seconds

A Tuesday morning

A whole dream,
kept in twelve seconds.

Watch the same dream travel from someone’s mouth to a soft page in their journal — and, three weeks later, into the constellation of things the two of you keep returning to.

  1. 06:14She holds the gold dot.
  2. 06:14Talks until she stops.
  3. 06:14Lets go. Walks to the kitchen.
  4. 06:16A title appears.
  5. 06:16The page writes itself.
  6. 06:16Three quiet tags arrive.
  7. SundayA pattern surfaces, on its own.
  8. SundayShe closes the app.
9:41

Hold to record

A few of the things people wrote down last week.

What you’ll start to notice

After a few weeks,
the same shapes return.

We don’t tell you what your dreams mean. We line up your nights — and your partner’s — and quietly mark what keeps returning to both of you. The interpretation, alone or together, stays yours.

doorways
and water,
again.
An old friend with no name.
A staircase you remember
from a house that isn't yours.
The same lake,
the same kitchen,
the same gentle, impossible task.

“We’d both been dreaming about the same kitchen for years and never knew.”
— Maya & Lior, year one

Tonight

Just say what you remember.
The two of you, kept side by side.

An advertisement, in the back of the magazine

Built for two. —
Open to one, if you sleep alone.

One quiet room for the two of you. A side-door for those who sleep alone. And a contact-only flow for therapists who want to share the practice.

For two

Two journals,
one shared sky.

$27.99/ month

or $219 a year · seven nights free, with a card

  • See what you both dreamed this week, in the middle
  • A small letter on Sunday — read it together over coffee
  • Build your own dictionary of what your symbols mean
  • Intimate dreams stay private until you choose to share
  • Gift a year to them — a card, scheduled to arrive
If you sleep alone

For one,
if you sleep alone.

$16.99/ month

or $149.99 a year · seven nights free, with a card

  • Talk into your phone before you open your eyes — we write it down
  • Unlimited typed and voice nights, kept open as long as you stay
  • After a few weeks, see what keeps coming back
  • Bring your old paper journals in, by the page
  • No constellation in the middle — that one belongs to the two of you
For therapists

Quiet dream-work,
between sessions.

$54/ month

Practice (10) · Group (20) · set up by hand, never self-serve

  • Linked clients get the full thing for free
  • A quiet feed of every dream they share with you
  • Notes you write stay yours — never seen by them
  • One therapist per client, always — no overlap
  • Per-seat from $54/mo · contact us to begin

Ari · Pavia

The studio

About Ari Horesh

Ari Horesh has spent the last seven years building tools used by millions of students — most of them studying to become doctors. EnterMedSchool is the largest free medical-school admissions community on the open web; LionBot powers their daily practice. From a small studio in Pavia, Italy, he ships both, every day, since 2019.

DreamTracker is the studio’s first product about the night — the only dream journal designed for two.

Founder, designer, and writer · Pavia, Italy

Quietly anticipated questions

A few things,
gently answered.

  • There is a quiet room for two. Seven nights free with a card, then the price you choose — month by month, or by the year. One of you pays, the other joins free. Each keeps your own journal, fully. In the middle, the things you both dream in the same week begin to glow.

Begin
together.

One of you starts. The other joins free.

Seven nights free with a card · cancel any morning

DreamTracker — the dream journal for couples