The screens we stare and type into are like a perfect diary. They capture everything about us. But…

This diary is not for you.

Your innermost wants and needs are right there for them to see…with every scroll, click and query.

“them”?

Them. The smartest guys in the room, on the other side of the glass. Sort of like an interrogation room, except in this interrogation — no one has to force the answers out of you.

You tell “them” everything.

Everything they need to know to grab you by the eyeballs, and keep you there — flicking, pinching, swiping, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling…

Will you handwrite something for yourself today?

Or will you continue being a font in someone’s else diary?