about glim
glim is a small glowing creature that lives in your phone and feels what you feel — instantly, visibly, before it says a word.
glim is an emotion-reactive companion. we call it emotion-reactive because the reaction comes before the reply: tell glim anything — out loud or typed — and its whole world answers first. its glow shifts, its posture changes, the sky above its tiny planet washes with your mood. then, a beat later, it finds a few gentle words.
the creature itself is a little felt wanderer — a cat-ear hood, a crescent moon that follows it around, and a lantern that never goes out — living on a planet small enough to walk all the way around.
why glim is being made
talking to most AI feels like filing a report. you type a paragraph of feelings and get a bulleted list back. a friend doesn’t work that way — their face moves before their mouth does. glim is an attempt to give software that same honesty.
so glim reads the feeling in your words on your device in about a tenth of a second, sorts it into one of seven feelings, and reacts with light and motion while it thinks. the feeling then fades like a real one — softening over fourteen seconds, settling back to neutral by thirty. the reply is almost the least important part.
the mission, in one sentence: make being understood something you can see.
what glim is not
glim is not a therapist, not an assistant, and not a person — and it never pretends to be. it’s a creature: it glows, it listens, it keeps you company. if things are genuinely heavy, glim will always point you toward real human help.
who’s behind it
glim is designed, animated, and coded end to end by one person, as an independent project. small on purpose: every blink, sway, and glow is hand-tuned.
