Threshold: Intentional Browsing

Cross the threshold with intention. A quiet, considered gate before the sites that take your time.

Threshold is not a blocker. It is a considered pause for the ordinary evening: the tab you open without quite deciding to, the hour that goes somewhere you did not choose. If you are in recovery and need a wall with a keeper, there are tools built for that, and they are right to exist. This is not one of them. Threshold is for the nights you want the choice back, not taken away. What actually happens 1. You choose the sites that take your time. Everything else is untouched. 2. When you open one, the page waits behind a quiet screen. You write one line about what you came to do and pick your minutes: three or thirty, whatever is true. 3. Ten seconds pass. The door opens. A small mark sits in the corner with your own words on it and the time you chose. 4. When you leave, one question: how did it go? Write a private note if you want one. Then a single tap: Did it. Some of it. Not this time. Every answer earns credit, including the last one. Noticing is the practice. The Intention Score Your check-ins settle into one number: how often you arrive with a purpose, over a rolling two weeks. A rough day softens it. Nothing sinks it. There is no other metric on the dashboard, because no other number would tell you anything true. Who sees your words You. That is the whole list. Your intentions, your notes, your score: written on your machine, computed on your machine, shown to you alone. Threshold makes zero network requests. Not few. Zero. Open the network tab and watch. There is no account because there is no server, and there is nothing to breach or sell because there is nothing anywhere but your own computer. Six things Threshold deliberately does not include - No lock. A door you cannot open teaches you to look for another door. A pause teaches you to decide. - No accountability partner. You answer to the person you will be in an hour. That is harder, and it is the point. - No emails about you. Nothing is sent, because there is nowhere to send it. - No shame mechanics. "Not this time" is an answer, not a failure, and it earns the same credit as any other. - No AI. A quiet question you answer yourself beats a chatbot that answers for you. - No dashboards for anyone else. Not partners, not employers, not us. Especially not us. Honest limits Threshold cannot stop you. It was never meant to. You can cross every gate, extend every session, or switch it off entirely, and nobody will be told, because nobody is watching. If tonight calls for a wall, be honest about that and use one. Threshold is for the other three hundred nights: the ones lost not to crisis but to habit, where ten seconds of your own attention is enough to change what happens next. The card: When you want to, turn a window of your score into a single quiet image: the number, the seven-day arc, the sites that asked the most of you. Rendered on your device, saved as a download or a copy, never uploaded. It is the only thing Threshold ever asks you to share, and only if you choose to. Getting started 1. Pick your sites from the catalog, or add your own. 2. Set your daily standard and how long the door should hold you. 3. Cross with your purpose named, and say how it went. The first few crossings explain themselves in plain language, and nothing is ever taken away from you. Threshold requests permission to run on websites only when you turn gating on; the install itself asks for no broad access. Site suggestions from your browsing history are optional and computed entirely on your device. Export everything, or wipe it clean, whenever you like. A threshold is not a wall. It is the line where you decide. Free. Local. Considered.