You have 12,000 files on your laptop.
You can name 20.
Simbi remembers the other 11,980.
Drop a file. Ask anything. Open the file the answer came from.
That's the whole product.
Three things, in this order.
You have a folder on your computer called Simbi. You drop things into it — a PDF, a screenshot, a meeting note, a download, a whole zip your sister sent. You don't name them. You don't tag them. You don't sort them. You forget about them.
When you need something, you ask in plain language. "What did my sister send me in March?" "Where are the photos from Cádiz?" "That note about Galicia — find it." Simbi answers. In a sentence.
Every answer comes with the file it came from. Click it. Open it. Read the source yourself. Without sources, an AI is an oracle, and oracles get things wrong silently. Simbi shows its work.
It doesn't read your email yet. It doesn't watch your calendar. It doesn't speak. Today it does one thing: it remembers what you put in front of it, and finds it when you ask.
On your machine. Nowhere else.
Simbi runs on your laptop, your home server, or a five-euro VPS — whatever hardware you've got. Your files never leave that machine. There is no cloud account to sign into, no telemetry, no analytics, no third party that gets a copy of anything.
The portal you're reading is open source. The product itself is opening progressively under a permissive license. If I disappear tomorrow, your Simbi keeps running. If you don't like where the project is heading, you take your copy and go. No closed door, ever.
Today you can run it yourself for free with your own key (Anthropic, OpenAI, or a model running on your own hardware). Soon: a pre-installed box with a perpetual free tier and an optional Premium service. Either way the promise is the same: your data on your machine, no rent for the right to remember.
This is not ideology. It is an architecture decision. A memory holds everything you have. That much trust can only go to something that is actually yours.
Built by one person, on purpose.
Simbi is built by Andrés Martín Angulo, a programmer in Spain. One person, working in the open. No company, no board, no exit strategy. He's building it because he wants it to exist — for himself, for his father, for the three families already using it daily, for the eleven more waiting their turn, for anyone who feels the same daily friction. If that's you, this belongs to you too.
Two ways to keep going.
Pick whichever you want first. Both are public, both are honest.
Why it exists, the philosophy
An 11-minute essay. The frustration that started it, the idea of "memory not search", and why intimate things shouldn't live on someone else's servers.
Read the essay → The planHow it sustains itself, what I promise
A public business plan. What it costs, where the money goes, the four promises, where we are right now. Living document.
Read the plan →No-tech questions? Plain-language FAQ · or email me directly: [email protected]