What this app stores, who can read it, and how to make it stop existing. It is short because there isn't much of it.
Not to advertisers, not to data brokers, not to anybody. It isn't a product this app has.
Every record carries the account it belongs to, and every query is filtered by it — including lookups by id. One account cannot reach another's, not even by accident. The one exception is the requests board, which is a page you post to on purpose: what you write there is meant to be read, and it is the only place in this app where anything of yours is.
What you write is stored so it can be shown back to you, and for nothing else. It is never used to train a model — not ours, not anybody's — and nothing here is sold or used to build another product.
Settings → Your data counts every week, mark, achievement, goal and stage on the account, named in plain English.
One button hands you every year as a single file. Another deletes the account outright — no soft delete, no grace period, no email asking you to reconsider.
Which tabs get opened, and whether setup was finished — recorded by software on the same server as this app, not by Google and not by anybody who sells advertising. It sets no cookies, it stores no IP address, and the numbers never leave that machine. It carries no account number either, so a tab it counts is one somebody opened rather than one you opened. Never a week you wrote, a goal, a stage, a number you tracked, your name or your email.
When you close a tab, your browser sends four numbers to our machine: how long the page took to appear, how long it took to respond when you tapped, how much it moved while loading, and when this app first drew a screen. They are added to a running count and then thrown away. There is no cookie, no account number, no address and nothing kept about your visit — only four totals that tell us the app got slower, never who it was slow for.
When you write a week, add a goal or finish setup, this app records that it happened — the kind of thing, your account number, and a count. Never a word of what you wrote, never a goal, never a stage. It is how we know which parts are worth keeping and which nobody opens. It stays on our own server for 180 days and then deletes itself. Unlike the screen counting above, this one does carry your account number: it is part of running the service rather than analytics, which is why we state it separately.
The Google account you signed in with: your email address, your name, and the address of your profile picture. Nothing else about you is asked for, and the app never sees your password.
Your weeks — the days you tick, the bullets, the achievements, the answers to the Sunday questions — along with your goals, your life stages, and the pillars, metrics and prompts you set up.
You. Whoever runs the server can read the database, as is true of any app you don't host yourself. There is no advertising on it, and nothing you write here is given to anybody.
A request, a vote or a reply on the requests board is public to everybody signed in: it carries your first name and the words you wrote, and never your email address. Deleting your account takes your votes away and takes your name off what you posted — the words stay, because other people's votes and replies hang off them.
Your questions and its answers, kept so the conversation reads as one. It is the only thing here you can erase without erasing the account — Clear, on that screen, deletes the lot — and it is deliberately not in the export, which is every year you wrote rather than the app talking about them. An account that never opens the screen has none of this.
A copy of every email this app posts — a letter to your future self on the day it goes, and anything you send through the feedback form — is kept on our own server, so we can tell what was sent and whether it arrived. It is not shown to any other account, and deleting your account does not remove it.
Your name, email address and profile picture, so the app knows whose weeks these are. Sign-in happens on Google's own page; your password never reaches this server.
A request for the two typefaces the app is set in. Their font server sees your IP address, and nothing else about you.
Your profile picture is an address on Google's own servers rather than a copy kept here, so your browser fetches it from them — they see your IP address, and the request is sent with no referrer, so they are not told which page of the app you were on. An account with no picture on it makes no such request.
A letter you posted to your future self goes to the address on your account on the day you picked, and anything you send through the feedback form arrives as an email. Both go through our own mailbox, not a marketing service, and no address is ever added to a list. Write no letters and send no feedback and nothing is sent at all.
A weekly nudge is delivered by the push service your browser belongs to — Google's, Mozilla's or Apple's, depending on the device. It is handed a notification addressed to your device and encrypted so it can't read what's inside. Reminders are off until you turn them on.
The coordinates of the place you picked go to Open-Meteo, so the forecast, the air reading and the sunrise are for where you are. Nothing that says which account asked goes with it, and a display with no weather on it asks nothing.
Linking a Google Calendar, Google Tasks, a Todoist account or a calendar feed lets the app read from it — read only, and only the calendars, lists or tasks you point it at. Nothing about your weeks is written back to any of them, and unlinking stops it.
Life AI is the one screen in this app that sends what you wrote to somebody else's computer. When you ask it something, your question and a summary of your own log — your recent weeks, your habits, your goals, your pillars and the shape of your day — are sent to Anthropic's Claude API so it has something to answer from. Your name, email address and account number are not, and neither is anything from another account. Anthropic does not train on it. The screen is off until you switch it on in Settings, and an account that never opens it sends nothing.
Turning on the nightly backup writes a copy of your whole log into a folder in your own Google Drive. The app can only see the files it put there — never anything else in your Drive — and it never deletes any of them. Switching it off, or unlinking, stops it.
One: a signed session that remembers you're signed in and expires on its own. The screen counting above sets none — it counts visits without them. There are no trackers and no third-party scripts.
Settings → Your data counts what the account holds and hands you all of it as a single JSON file — yours to keep, read, or take somewhere else. The same page writes out what is in that file, key by key, so it is readable without this app.
The same page deletes the account outright: every week in every year, along with your goals, life stages and settings. Delete means delete. Nothing is kept and nothing can bring it back — with one exception, named because a promise with a quiet hole in it is worse than a smaller promise: the record of sign-in attempts to this app. That is a security log, it is held where this app has no credentials to reach it, and it stays.
Something here unclear, or something you'd like removed? Write to contact@rasoi.io — a person reads it.