Kodama Maria Bungaku Shuusei - Vol. 2 Ch. 10 - World Processor

[MangaDex]

 

[Razeel]

D E E P

 

[wangtheone]

my head is spinning too

 

[downl044-209]

Philosophy.

 

[Ulysseswho1]

im not sure if she is deep or just so dumb it turns into being philosophical.

 

[Elma_]

This chapter is more philosiphical than psychological , this manga definitily needs the genre added

 

[sjiveru]

This is like Haruhi with philosophy instead of slapstick.

 

[Vandurn]

What’s what I call a top tier chapter *chef kiss*

 

[ijontichy]

Can't tell if manga deep or I'm stupid. Then again I think in numbers and patterns and not words and phrases.

 

[Gintsama]

My head spun

Only part that's confusing is the sister part and the missing sister from the book to me. Maybe I'll get it when I reread this at some point.

 

[Attac_Mage]

@Gintsama

I saw the sister being introduced and removed from the two books as a parallel to the manga, probably. I don't believe it's mentioned the mc had a sister at any point, and that's echoed in his assumption of her just appearing.

 

[HeyJudas]

I have a theory on why the little sister did not appear at his first time reading, its because he didnt read it throughly and missed the character completely. And when she gave him the divided one, he noticed some things that he didnt notice before. Just like life, some things pass by to quick and you wont notice, but its there.

 

[Meleis420]

 

[leusee]

hmmm.... what?

 

[AwesomeGB]

This manga is the type of shit I think about every minute of the day

 

[anideki]

this chapter summarizes my brain when I can't sleep at night and I just stare at the ceiling whike thinking random shit

 

[nodamnbrakes]

I’ll just drop one of my favourite bits from the surrealists, here:
“I am the divinity of the day,” she replied. “Through me all things breathe and have their being. Do you know any popular songs? They are so full of me that they cannot be sung, they must be murmured. Everything that exists through reflection, everything that sparkles, everything that perishes dogs my footsteps. I am Nana, the idea of time. Have you never been in love with an avalanche, my dear? Just look at my skin. Although immortal, I have the appearance of a banquet of midday sunshine. A fire of straw one longs to touch. But on this eternal pyre it is the firebrand who goes up in a blaze. The sun is my little dog. See, it is trotting at my heels.”
She went off in the direction of the Rue Chauchat, while I stood there bemused: Instead of a shadow, a scarf of light was preceding her along the pavement...”

- Louis Aragon, Paris Peasant