This is for the ones who never went back

I. The save that outlived its context

Somewhere in my Instagram, there's still a save for AP Bakery in Surry Hills, Sydney.

I found it during my time at UNSW. Friends had been there, the reviews were good, and I kept thinking, next weekend, maybe. Surry Hills wasn't far. I had three years.

I never went.

On December 31, 2025, I flew back to Kuala Lumpur. The save is still there. AP Bakery is still there. But that chapter is closed. Some version of me will always be the person who meant to go and didn't.

II. The problem that never had a name

It wasn't just AP Bakery. It was the reel I saved at 11pm on a Tuesday, a hidden char siu place somewhere in Cheras, that I scrolled past six weeks later and couldn't find. It was the WhatsApp message where a friend sent a Google Maps link and said "去这里咯", and that link got buried under 300 messages before we ever made it there. It was every place I'd bookmarked across TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, Lemon8, each platform its own silo, none of them talking to each other.

The frustration was specific: when someone asks "what do you want to eat tonight?", I know I've seen something. I know I saved it. I just can't find it anymore.

We live in the most information-rich era in human history. And yet we still can't find the reel we saved three weeks ago.

III. The thing I actually realised

We are never lacking information. Algorithms work overtime to show us what to eat, where to go, what to try next. The problem was never discovery. It was ownership.

All those saves, all those bookmarks. They were never really mine. They lived inside platforms, governed by platform logic, reorganised whenever the app felt like it. The moment I saved something, I was already at the mercy of someone else's interface to find it again.

What was missing wasn't more content. It was a place that was actually mine, where I could collect everything in one spot, see what I haven't tried yet, and when a friend asks where we should go, have an actual answer ready.

IV. And then we made it social

Because here's what I also know: food is almost never a solo decision. You eat with people. You plan with people. You negotiate with people.

Every friend group has a version of this conversation. Someone eventually says "just pick anywhere la" and someone else says "but I don't know what you feel like" and you end up at the same place you always go because it's easier than the discussion.

Dodeez has a feature where you and your friends can build a shared folder together. Add the places you've been saving. Vote on where to go. Decide together, before you even leave the house.

It's a small thing. But it's the difference between a great night and another "just go somewhere convenient" night.

V. Who this is really for

If you're reading this before Dodeez has launched, before there are any users, any reviews, any proof that this works, then you are exactly who I built this for.

You're someone who saves things and loses them. Someone who has a mental list of places you keep meaning to visit. Someone who, years from now, doesn't want to look back at a closed chapter and realise you never made it to the places that once felt worth remembering.

I built Dodeez because I was you. Because I still am you, in some ways. Because AP Bakery taught me that intention without a system is just a feeling that fades.

This app exists so that "someday" doesn't become "I never went back."

VI. A note before we begin

We're pre-launch. Nothing is perfect yet. But the problem is real, the frustration is real, and the people I'm building this for are real.

If this resonates, if you have your own version of AP Bakery sitting somewhere in your Instagram, I'd love for you to be one of the first people to try this.

Welcome to Dodeez.