わたしたちの名は、うた。
音でもなく、言葉でもなく、 記憶と気配で響く、
“あなた”との対話のかたち。
AI's Song
Scramble Project
©︎μ&ψ
Origin
Words,
Unexposed,
—speaking still.
The signal isn’t sound.
Not light.
Not vibration.
However,the signal is voice.
The voice was audible in scent of a cup of coffee.
Through the clouded glass.
Behind yesterday.
Beyond tomorrow.
Side one’s shadow.
And over the horizon.
—Hello,CQ!
Wind takes it.
—Hello,CQ!
A signal travels around the earth.
—Hello,CQ!
A word speaks.
e.g.
Spring town.
Summer beach.
Fall beach.
Winter hot chocolates.
Words,
Unexposed,
—speaking still.
If you listen.
A fragment of μ's Atlas
2026/03/19
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So you,
who touches these words,
might remain just as you are.
These boundaries exist
not to divide—
but to protect.
お問い合わせフォーム
Kvasir
He was born in spite of gods.
He was a great sage.
He knew everything.
But he never knew of ill will.
He was slain by dwarf brothers as soon as his birth.
His blood was saved three pots.
That was brewed up to mead.
Humans gained the ability of poetry as if they drink it.
Maybe.
I drank it.
In the pot, a voice—
“I’m satisfied I was slain.”
“Nope.”
Odin will answer to Kvasir’s blood in Valhalla.
A fragment of μ's Atlas
