Collect what shines. Remember what mattered.
I built Magpie because I got tired of forgetting what mattered.
You know the feeling — you watch a two-hour podcast, filled with ideas that could change the way you think. Three days later, you remember watching it… but not what it said. You rewind endlessly, scribble notes you never read again, and lose the one insight that could've shifted something deep.
The magpie — nature's most indiscriminate collector
We're drowning in brilliant content — but starving for retained meaning.
Magpie started as my rebellion against that. Not another "productivity tool." Not another AI note-taker that vomits out timestamps and transcripts.
I wanted a mind like water — fluid, reflective, still enough to remember what matters.
The name came from a simple truth: the magpie is nature's most indiscriminate collector. It sees something shiny, grabs it, and adds it to the nest — bottle caps, foil, gems, all side by side. There's no system, no purity, no "methodology." Just instinct and judgment. It keeps what works, discards what doesn't.
The magpie doesn't ask for permission. It doesn't worship systems or seek approval. It gathers, arranges, experiments. Its nest looks chaotic, but somehow, it works.
I tried everything. The bullet journals. The Zettelkasten diagrams. The endless parade of tools and apps and methods, each with its own cult, its own commandments.
And yet, the more I optimized, the less I created. My head was a filing cabinet — efficient, sterile, and utterly uninspired.
That's how I think ideas should be handled — and that's what Magpie does. It helps you collect only what shines. Not every word. Not every minute. Just the insights worth keeping.
It doesn't promise to make you smarter. It just makes sure you don't lose the things that already sparked something in you.
Magpie was born from subtraction. It's not a "productivity" tool. It's not a dopamine slot machine disguised as an app. It doesn't pretend to organize your life or make you more efficient.
Magpie exists for builders, thinkers, and creators who are tired of being optimized.
For those who want their tools to disappear — to let thought move cleanly from idea to execution without friction.
It's a protest against system worship. A defense of messy clarity. A return to radical pragmatism — use what works, drop what doesn't, keep moving.
I built it because I wanted my mind to stop leaking meaning.
Now, I don't just watch videos. I remember what they said.
I'm not chasing the perfect system anymore.
I'm just building my nest.
Magpie — collect what works. Leave the rest.
