Daren Aronofsky’s The Fountain: An Analysis — part 2

The film blends with subtlety reality and fiction, especially through scenes that sometimes resemble the quest of Thomas, sometimes the one of the characters in the novel by Izzi. This allows the themes to appear as existing outside of time. The tree of life, which is the common theme of the three eras helps us to understand that there is more than one interpretation for the movie. Basically, it does not matter in detail what the movie is about, perhaps because the unified themes provide a coherence that illuminates our understanding of life a little better.

What can be understood as an odyssey through time and through the cycles of life and death is above all an odyssey through an inner journey, a real and salutary quest for the mysteries that haunt our existence. The richness and emotional depth allow us to understand how the death anxieties affect us at any level of existence.

Religious and Theological Themes in The Matrix

The four noble Buddhist truths are revealed here as an escape from the illusory world created by The Matrix. Neo, as an ascetic, thus manages to realize himself by escaping the inevitability of the cyclical worlds that engender only misfortune and suffering. Buddhist philosophy offers a soteriology that allows human responsibility to rise to an absolute, and to evacuate the weight of a theological instinct that was thought to be irreducible. The fainting of any supreme being (God) facilitates a Buddhist appreciation of The Matrix, and a world free for any divinity to emerge. The Buddha, as well as Neo, reject the existence of a God, thus making the deliverance a purely spiritual act. If such a perspective confers on humans the responsibility for their own enslavement, it also allows a salutary optimism to transcend the cycles of Saṃsāra.

Being 2.0: On Culture, Belonging, and Identity

I offer in this book, as a result, a transpersonal experience. More than my simple autobiography, the book is the story of an entire generation of people whose parents emigrated from various countries, with the hope of a better future for their progeny.
I think in a way that the sense of loneliness related to this grief is, at any rate for me, a feeling of inner disconnect, as if there were a gaping hole in the centre of who I am. This feeling was one that I had been carrying around for most of my life, but had come to the centre of my experience as a result of such grief. I see this feeling of inner disconnect as a need to feel like I belong somewhere. As the process of grief was taking place, it amplified a need to deconstruct my place and role in society, the ideological structures that pervade cultures, and the nature of the relationships between people.

On the Future of Religion

For some time now, I have been  interested in the evolution of religions in modern societies. This is a question that I consider of the utmost importance, and for which there is no straightforward path. What will the religious landscape look like in the coming years in modern societies? I …

Letter of Apology

This letter is an attempt to offer my deepest and most sincere apology to everyone. It includes the dear friends, the family, and the enemies I made down the road. There is in me a deep sense of loss and grief, as I realize some of the truest and humblest …

Life, Please Understand

Dear Life, for what you have been imposing upon me, this letter is my offering. As an attempt, maybe, to shed light on some of the difficulties on the road that I took and that you opened up to me. The struggle unfolds here in two ways: the first one being articulate …

Black Deserts

Black deserts and golden dust. Distant winds and opaque silences. Black deserts and golden dust. Distant silence and opaque winds. Fleeing chimeras of my breath, leaving only as an echo what the soft night settles. Black gold, glittering murmurs that you let fly in the air, and which settle down to …

Emotions in a Silo

I am seeking the traces of a heart which was opened some time ago. Bending and picking some of its pieces, left in a silo. The thunders and the rain washed away my hopes. I’m driving but I cannot think clearly, not right now. I am scared. I can’t pull …

Hard for Me to Write

It’s hard for me to write when I’m high, or when I’m down. Hard for me when I struggle, hard for me when I’m out of touch with life. Sitting in a corner in my mind, I can only care for so much. The words float, lead me astray; what …

Shouting in Silence

Singular state for a single silence. A few words that will be said, maybe few scratches on a rainy day. The cold permeates the stillness, both the air and the ground. In this, there is but an attempt to bring up what was left down deep; the bones and the …