a private writing companion · for what's present

Go inward.

Write your way toward what you actually want. floe reads what you write and asks the next honest question — private by default, your words stay with you.

Write to begin Android beta — join the testfree to start

floe app character illustration — your writing companion

a space for every feeling

Bring anything in. It belongs here.

Heavy, bright, half-formed, contradictory. floe makes room for what's already in you — nothing has to be tidy first.

unhappy

doubt

smile

happy

attracted

surprised

tender

restless

unhappy

doubt

smile

happy

attracted

surprised

tender

restless

quiet

aching

curious

longing

drifting

warm

tired

hopeful

quiet

aching

curious

longing

drifting

warm

tired

hopeful

Before you write · a way into writing

Settle in. Notice more.

You don't have to know what to write yet. Settle in, notice what's happening in your body, and begin with what surfaces.

01 · Guided audio

Follow the voice, and settle in

A guided voice helps you slow down and bring your attention back to your breath.

Before writing, take a moment to settle in.

02 · Warm up

Write or draw, and notice your body

Start with what you can feel in your body. Write from it, or let your hand make marks on paper. It doesn't have to make sense or look right.

Write

Follow this opening and write down what comes up.

Right now, my body feels like…

a string pulled tight

Draw

Take a pen and paper. Let your hand make marks from what you feel.

03 · Back to writing

Begin with what surfaced

Carry one line from the practice into your writing, and see where it leads.

Your opening line

Right now, my body feels like a string pulled tight,

and where it's pulled tight, it seems to say

while you write

A companion who stays between the lines.

Pick a mode when you sit down. Each one changes what floe notices and asks — but both bring you back to what's actually here.

01 · mode

Be Aware

Notice what's here.

Turns your words back toward your body and the texture of the moment, so you stay with what's underneath instead of explaining it away.

you write

“I woke up feeling completely overwhelmed today. There's so much happening at work, and I feel like I'm drowning in responsibilities. I keep telling myself I should be handling this better, but everything feels too much right now.”

floe responds

There's a weight in your words, a heaviness that lingers in the space where you describe feeling overwhelmed.

What does the sensation of drowning feel like inside you — not just in your mind, but in your body?

How does the inner voice that says "I should be handling this better" sound or feel beyond the words?

If I pause here, I notice…

The texture of this moment feels…

02 · mode

Express

Let it have a shape.

For when something is already pressing. floe helps the feeling move from inside you to the page — finding its own voice. No need to be tidy or finished.

you write

We seem to be talking past each other constantly. I love them, but I'm starting to wonder if we're just too different.

Tap a line to hear how floe responds.

floe responds

These words carry a moment dense with tension and unspoken weight.

What was the air like in the room when the argument started — were there sounds, gestures, or silences that filled the space?

You might describe a detail like the flicker of a shadow on the wall, the way hands moved, or the tone that sharpened the words, to bring the moment alive.

It's okay to linger with that moment exactly as it was, without needing to soften or explain it.

after you write

What did you
actually say?

When the writing slows, floe gives you back what's underneath. Not a judgment. Not a fix. A mirror — so you can see yourself more clearly, and notice what's underneath.

tonight · after writingnoticing

what you wrote

I used to love painting, but lately I just stare at blank canvases.

Nothing feels inspiring anymore.

I wonder if I've lost my creative spark or if I'm just going through a phase.

It's frustrating because art used to be my escape.

what floe noticed

You describe a shift from passionate engagement with painting to a quiet stare at empty canvases, cultivating a sense of loss or pause in your creative flow. There is a mention of frustration intertwined with nostalgia for art as an escape, which hints at both a longing and a questioning of your current relationship with your inspiration.

The contrast between the past love for painting and the present silence may reveal a gentle tension between desire and the feeling of being stuck, as if the act of creation has paused but not necessarily disappeared.

why floe is this way