00:00We so often casually use phrases like I'm beside myself, I've lost myself, I'm trying to find
00:18myself. But let us ponder, what if this is more than just a figure of speech? What if our self
00:25is not a monolithic diamond, but rather a fragile mandala of sand, constantly assembled and just as
00:32instantly eroded by the winds of memory, fleeting sensations, and electrical impulses? We are dreamers,
00:39wandering the labyrinth of our own mind with a flawed torch of consciousness. It illuminates
00:44only a meager patch of the path beneath our feet, leaving the vast, frightening halls and endless
00:50corridors of our psyche shrouded in the darkness of ignorance. We do not know what lurks in the
00:55shadows of the next turn, only vaguely sensing the stirring of something unseen. We blindly believe
01:02in the continuity of our existence. Every morning, upon waking, we accept without a shadow of a doubt
01:09that we are the very same person who closed our eyes the night before. But what if this is the
01:14grandest illusion cultivated by our brain? What if each night we experience a small death? Our self
01:22dissolves, disintegrates into atoms, only to reassemble at dawn slightly differently, from the
01:28fragments of yesterday's experiences and long forgotten impressions. We are the ship of Theseus,
01:34every plank of which has long been replaced, yet we fiercely cling to the name engraved on the stern,
01:40believing it is the guarantee of our authenticity. Now imagine a force that approaches this fragile
01:46process of assembly not with a hammer of destruction, but with a subtle, sophisticated chisel of distortion.
01:54It does not erase the personality. It rewrites it. Madness is not an absence of logic, not chaos. It is a
02:03different logic, alien and terrifying, with its own incomprehensible coherence. It is viewing the universe
02:10through a distorted lens, where forms are grotesque yet mathematically precise. It is a sick, agonizing
02:17transformation, an alchemy of the soul conducted according to recipes written in a non-human hand.
02:23We instinctively fear oblivion, emptiness, non-existence. But there is something far more
02:30terrifying a memory that never was. A parasite memory, skillfully implanted into the deepest layers of
02:37the psyche. It takes root, grows through neural networks like a weed, and begins to dictate your
02:43own history to you. You suddenly remember a horror that never happened, you feel reverent awe for a
02:49deity that never existed. And this fabricated horror gradually becomes denser, more real, more tangible than
02:57the chair you sit on or the book in your hands. Your own biography turns into an alien manuscript,
03:04written in the unfamiliar language of a dead civilization. You turn its pages and realize
03:09with the soul-chilling bewilderment that the main character is you, but you don't recognize his
03:14thoughts, his actions, or the reasons for his suffering. You become a hostage to a foreign narrative,
03:21a prisoner of an invented past. The source of madness is not just a location in a game.
03:27It is a metaphysical point of rupture, a concept of collision. It is the place where the fragile,
03:34sand-built human self collides head-on with the abyss of the utterly other, with the infinite,
03:39indifferent cosmos that cares nothing for our petty dramas, moral codes, and logical constructs.
03:46We, cartographers by nature, try to map this abyss, name its monsters, classify its horrors.
03:54But it's true, fundamental nature is to break the very principle of cartography,
03:59to erase the map itself and the one who dared to draw it. We stare into this abyss, expecting to see
04:05a reflection of our own fear, but the abyss doesn't just stare back. It leans in and begins to whisper.
04:13It whispers in our ear stories about ourselves perverted, unbearable, shocking sagas that we can
04:19neither accept nor refute, for they seem to echo from our very depths. And in this whisper,
04:25in this act of intimate, terrifying revelation, the old self dies and a new one is born. Warped,
04:32alien, mad. And perhaps, for the first time in its life seeing the world and the universe for what
04:39they truly are, without embellishment and saving illusions.
04:49If you are not, it is called by the last of the last of the early years of the year,
04:54one of the greatest variables of the old self-evideo, the old self-evideo seals and the old self-evideo
04:57in terms of what they are, with our own self-evideo is called by using the study,
05:02so that people can let them open the books of the world and the new self-evideo are called by using the
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