01
Hears your alarm
All 84 stock iOS alarm sounds, recognised in under two seconds. No pairing, no setup, no account to open before bed.

Somni is a dream journal built for the people who need one most: those living with nightmare disorder and PTSD. I designed and built it across software and hardware, as my Stanford capstone.
The film
The product
The device hears your alarm and starts listening. The app is where the pattern shows up.

Problem
Storing dreams is trivial. The whole difficulty is that you are barely awake at the only moment the dream still exists.
Imagine
It is 3am and you have woken from the same nightmare again. The window in which you can still recall it is measured in minutes, and it closes while you are finding your phone, unlocking it, and hunting for the right screen.
For someone with nightmare disorder that scene repeats several nights a week. Clinicians treat these dreams with imagery rehearsal, which depends on the patient recalling the dream accurately. The recall is the treatment bottleneck.
Nothing else in product design decays this fast. Every second spent reaching, unlocking, and navigating is taken directly out of the thing being recorded.
At roughly one recalled dream a week there is no slack in the system. A capture flow that costs fifteen seconds does not reduce quality, it removes most of the data.
Reach, unlock, search, open, record. Five checkpoints, each one pulling the user further into the waking state that ends the recall window.
Recall decay after Hobson, and dream-recall frequency studies by Schredl, 2008 to 2011. Those numbers are why the design problem was never the journal. It was the ninety seconds after waking.
Users
People treating nightmare disorder or PTSD have the sharpest need and the least tolerance for friction. Around them sit three groups who had already improvised a version, which is what told me the pattern layer was worth building.
New to the practice
Already bought in
Already bought in
The third group is the clearest demand signal in the category. Free dream analysis with an LLM, here is my prompt is a recurring post on r/Dreams. People are hand-building this pipeline already.
The gap
I audited everything in the category. Each product does one or two of these well and drops the third, and the third is always the one that matters at 3am.
Capture
Insight
Screen free
Framing the solution
Design for the worst moment, not the demo. Everything else in the product is downstream of ninety seconds at 3am.
Three questions came out of that, and every decision below was argued against them rather than against a feature list.
Approach
Every decision came off that 3am constraint. Typing is too slow and too demanding, so capture is voice first. The screen has to be readable by someone not fully awake, which set the contrast and the target sizes before I drew anything.
T + 0s
The phone's own iOS alarm goes off, anywhere in the room. Nothing to pair.
+ 1.7s
It recognizes the alarm pattern, lights a soft amber crescent, and prompts you to speak.
+ 3s
As soon as you are awake enough to speak, you describe the dream. Eyes still closed.
+ 30s
Transcript, themes, symbols and archetype tags, privately and on-device first.
Later
Open the app whenever. The reading has already been written for you.
Total user effort is about thirty seconds with your eyes closed. No tap, no typing, and deliberately no streak. A nightmare journal that punishes a missed night is the wrong object for this user.
Head to head
~17s
phone path, alarm to tapping record
<2s
Somni path, alarm to listening
Five checkpoints before a single word lands, and by the end of them the screen has finished waking you up.
+ 3s
Find the phone. Dismiss the alarm.
+ 7s
Eyes fully open now.
+ 11s
Swipe through home screens to find an app.
+ 14s
Voice Memos, Notes, or a dream app.
+ 17s
The first word finally lands.
The device hears the alarm and starts listening. There is nothing to reach for, so there is nothing to fail at while half awake.
< 2s
Somni recognizes the alarm tone and begins.
Skipped
Four steps that only exist because a phone is a phone.
< 2s
You talk. Eyes still closed.
Fifteen seconds sounds like nothing until you price it against the decay curve. That window is the difference between a usable dream record and a fragment.
Hardware
A phone is the wrong object at 3am. It is bright, it is a portal to everything else, and it demands a lock screen. So the product is a bedside device that hears your alarm, prompts once, records while the dream is still warm, and then disappears.
01
All 84 stock iOS alarm sounds, recognised in under two seconds. No pairing, no setup, no account to open before bed.
02
One soft prompt. You speak the dream while it is still warm, with no screen involved.
03
The recording goes to the app, where the transcript and the reading are waiting whenever you choose to look.


The constraint. Anything that looked like consumer electronics belonged on a desk, not beside a bed. It also had to hold a real acoustic chamber and an LED that confirms capture without lighting the room.
What shipped. A crescent. Soft enough to sit on a nightstand, deep enough to hold the microphone chamber, and lit by one amber ring that reads as attention rather than as a screen.
I taught myself the hardware for this, wiring and soldering included, and took the enclosure through eight versions to the final build. It is the part I would defend hardest, because it is where I found out what I do when nobody on the team already knows the answer.
Product
Home is the night's capture and the count that makes the practice visible. Circle surfaces the people who recur in your dreams, ranked by how often they turn up in them.
The surface that earns its keep
Dominant themes, the emotional mix, recurring symbols, and the role you tend to play inside your own dreams. This is the layer the hackers were hand-building with pasted transcripts and custom prompts, and it is the reason anyone opens the app in daylight.
A single dream is noise. The pattern across months is the thing a user, or a clinician running imagery rehearsal, can actually act on.
Where it stands
Somni was my Stanford capstone and it ended where capstones end: at the showcase, with the working device on the table and people who had never seen it trying to talk to it.

Reflection
Somni is the project I point at when someone asks whether I can build. Not prototype. Build: a real app with a database behind it, deployed, next to hardware I soldered myself and an enclosure I printed.
What it taught me:
Designing for a clinical population is mostly restraint. Every feature I wanted to add competed with the ninety seconds that actually mattered. The best decisions on this project were all subtractions, including the streak I deliberately never built.
The constraint chose the form factor. The device is not a device because hardware is interesting. It exists because a screen at 3am ends the thing the product is trying to capture, and no amount of app design gets around that.
The people improvising a version are the market. The clearest demand signal was not a survey. It was people pasting dream transcripts into ChatGPT with hand-written prompts, because that is what someone does when the product they want does not exist yet.