(no subject)
Mihara Mitsukazu is my favourite mangaka. Not only because of the beautiful artwork and gothic lolita fashion, but more importantly the storyline. She illustrates reality with a touch of morbidity that just makes it even more real, yet extremely touching. Her stories really make me question a lot of things about life.
I've been reading "The Embalmer", and in one chapter, there is a typical scenario of 'loved one lying on death bed while the main character rushes in to bring good news only to realize it's too late'. And it reminds me of something thats always on my mind. Whenever my mum goes out, especially at night which she frequently does, I get scared that she won't come home. That if I don't say good bye and see her out the door, I'll regret it when it's too late. As the clock is ticking away, I start imagining all sorts of things that might've happened and I just get so scared.
I often think:
Death, and then?
memories, emotions, thoughts, feelings;
how are they made, where do they come from, where do they all go after death.
Obviously theres a physiological explanation for it but I always wonder in a abstract kind of way.
Particularly, why is it that I look at the world through my eyes?
what is it like to look through someone else's?
When my current body dies, will my soul move on to live in another body and look through a pair of eyes again?
Will I ponder the same questions again?
It's a never ending cycle of wondering and pondering.
I've been reading "The Embalmer", and in one chapter, there is a typical scenario of 'loved one lying on death bed while the main character rushes in to bring good news only to realize it's too late'. And it reminds me of something thats always on my mind. Whenever my mum goes out, especially at night which she frequently does, I get scared that she won't come home. That if I don't say good bye and see her out the door, I'll regret it when it's too late. As the clock is ticking away, I start imagining all sorts of things that might've happened and I just get so scared.
I often think:
Death, and then?
memories, emotions, thoughts, feelings;
how are they made, where do they come from, where do they all go after death.
Obviously theres a physiological explanation for it but I always wonder in a abstract kind of way.
Particularly, why is it that I look at the world through my eyes?
what is it like to look through someone else's?
When my current body dies, will my soul move on to live in another body and look through a pair of eyes again?
Will I ponder the same questions again?
It's a never ending cycle of wondering and pondering.