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Maybe you should read some Aristotle instead? After all, if you really think about it, humans are the only ones who know they will die. And that knowledge weighs on us our entire lives. You can drown out the pain with work,
Exploring consciousness as a source of human suffering and its paradoxical role in life’s meaning and freedom.
Key Takeaways
- Consciousness is a double-edged sword, enabling self-awareness but also existential pain.
- Human perception is subjective and limited, shaped by ego and will.
- Suffering is inherent to consciousness but also essential for meaning and love.
- Illusions serve as psychological defenses against the harsh realities of life.
- Acceptance of mortality enriches life and offers a path to freedom.
What the video covers
- Humans uniquely understand their mortality, which burdens consciousness throughout life.
- Consciousness is described as both a gift and a disease, causing pain by awareness of suffering.
- The 'hard problem' of consciousness highlights the mystery of subjective experience beyond brain activity.
- Knowledge and awareness often lead to existential bleakness, contrasting with the innocence of childhood.
- Our perception of reality is a projection shaped by consciousness, never fully objective.
- Consciousness involves an ego that simplifies reality but also causes suffering through desire and false self-identification.
- The Will, as described by Schopenhauer, drives human striving and suffering endlessly.
- Pain and suffering are inevitable parts of consciousness but also enable love and appreciation of life.
- Illusions and distractions are created by humans to avoid the harsh truths of existence.
- Freedom and meaning arise from accepting death and suffering rather than denying them.
Chapters
- 00:00Introduction: Consciousness and Mortality
- 01:54The Hard Problem of Consciousness
- 03:35Subjective Reality and Death
- 05:26Consciousness as Pain and Disease
- 07:06The Will and Human Striving
- 08:53Relationships and Psychological Support
- 10:40Philosophy of Suffering and Meaning
- 12:37Freedom, Acceptance, and Conclusion
Full Transcript — Download SRT & Markdown
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disposable pleasures, or booze, if you like, but avoiding the problem won't solve it. A suffering consciousness will always make itself known in the silence. We consider consciousness our greatest advantage, we take pride in it and say: "Man is a rational being." But
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on the other hand, consciousness is like a disease. Today I want to talk about what consciousness really is, why it makes us unhappy, and why we try to drown it out. And what should you do when the painkillers stop working? But
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first things first. What the [ __ ] is this [ __ ]? Before we begin, it’s only fair to admit that everything I said above might turn out to be a lie. Not because I want to screw over the working class,
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but because I don't even know where the truth ends and the beautiful story I tell myself to keep from going insane begins. By the way, another quirk of consciousness is this thesis. What is consciousness? The answer seems obvious.
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It’s something everyone has. Your inner voice, your thoughts, and your feelings. And that’s true. But don't rush to say that I’ve just stated the blindingly obvious. For starters, try explaining that to someone else. Try to describe what it’s like to be you—
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it’s impossible. Consciousness cannot be transmitted. It can only be experienced. Let’s imagine you are a bat. You see the world through sound, you don't know what red is, you live in echoes. We will never know what it’s like to be a bat. Consciousness isn't
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information; it’s an experience. What it’s like to be you, and nobody but you knows that. Philosophers call this the "hard problem" of consciousness. We don't know how sensations are born from neurons. Neurobiologists can show which parts of the brain are active when you
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see the color red. But they can't explain what it feels like to see red.
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We are our consciousness, yet we don't know what it is. The more a person knows, the more soberly they look at the world. And the more soberly they look at the world, the bleaker it seems. Woe from wit. If knowledge leads to
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happiness at all, it’s a complex kind of happiness. Like Camus's rebellion of someone who has realized the absurd. In that moment, a person feels the true beauty of ignorance. When you live in the moment and don't ask yourself all
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sorts of questions—knowledge is a thing from which there is no turning back, so you have no choice but to keep going. It seems that’s why childhood is associated with something bright and warm. Because at that stage of life,
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consciousness hasn't yet been defiled by knowledge. The world we see is not an objective reality, but a projection of our consciousness. Kant understood that 200 years ago. We will never see the world as it truly is. Only as it
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appears to us. There are things in themselves, and things for us. Even I, while making my videos, don't realize the full depth of what I've said. I realized this from commenters who found meaning I hadn't even intended, but I
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can't argue that it’s there. The commenters become co-authors. Is this not the death of the author? It shows how blind we are, that we are capable of clearly seeing our own projections.
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And if God does exist, does He even know what He created? The most frightening question: is there anything beyond our consciousness? Could the world just be a projection? Everyone sees it in their own way, and when a person dies, their entire subjective
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world dies with them. Everything you know—memories, feelings, thoughts—exists only in your consciousness. And when you die, all of it will vanish.
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This does not mean the world doesn't exist. It means we have no direct access to it. We always look through ourselves. And when we die, it is not the whole world that dies, but the only world we ever had. Others will remain,
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but we will no longer be in them. A human did not choose to live. Their existence is an absolutely ridiculous accident. Instead of you, it could have been some other person sitting there, who would be just as loved and who
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would also be watching this video without subscribing. Life is accidental, absurd, short, and lonely. Much as we might not want it, we are born alone and die in solitude. A person doesn't choose the fact of their birth; they
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simply appear, and then they realize it. And that realization is consciousness. Dostoevsky wrote in Notes from Underground: "I am firmly convinced that not only to be too conscious is a disease, but even any consciousness at all is a disease." And Thomas Ligotti
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called consciousness a tragic mutation. Evolution created a being capable of realizing its own suffering. Not just feeling pain, but knowing that you feel it. And this knowledge is, in itself, pain. But to call consciousness a disease implies that there is a norm.
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And then, where exactly is it? If the norm is the animal existence of your kin without reflection, then yes, consciousness is a deviation. But then all of culture, art, and love are nothing more than symptoms. Perhaps then the disease is humanity itself,
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and to cure it would mean to kill the human within. Antithesis. Jung compared consciousness to the surface of the ocean. Above are the waves; in the depths, silence. But we cannot dive down there. Doomed to remain on the
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surface. Cioran spoke more harshly. Consciousness is not a thorn; it is a dagger in the flesh. And that is the truth. Consciousness cuts constantly.
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Plus, it feeds anger. Freud wrote that the masses do not want the truth. They need illusions, otherwise they will go insane. Man creates illusions every day to avoid feeling pain and cold. Indeed, a person learns not so much out of
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curiosity, but because they want to expand the boundaries of comfort. Knowledge is a search for security. And if unpleasant truths are encountered along the way, they begin to be disputed. Jung believed: "Until we realize our deep-seated fears, they
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control us, and we call it fate." My point is that consciousness is often deceived by the ego, its false self.
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The ego is a constructor of consciousness. It saves the mind from the frightening infinity of the world by narrowing perception. A person does not see the world, but a simplified version of it created by the ego. But a
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person begins to mistake the false self for reality, for themselves. The ego is ravenous, it thinks in categories. "Mine," "I want security," "status," and it always wants more. When it doesn't get it, it suffers. Jung wrote: "I am not what happened to me, I am what I
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choose to become." But the ego says the opposite. You are exactly what happened to you. You are a victim and absolutely no one. Even I don't know. Maybe everything I'm saying right now isn't even my own thoughts, which I speak
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only because smart people say so, purely to stroke my ego. But besides the ego, there is something else. What moves the ego? Schopenhauer called it the Will. An eternally hungry force, the one that moves the sun and the
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stars. It exists even in a stone, and it compels man to search for meaning even when there is none. Man is merely an expression of this will. It will never be sated. Did you succeed at something? Euphoria. Then the pain
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returns, and the will demands more. If you didn't succeed, suffering; if you succeeded at everything at once, boredom. It forces us to suffer, but it also forces us to live. Without the ego and the will, a person would cease to
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strive. Even love at the initial stage is possible only thanks to a mutual, wordy, selfish, and often vain desire to own and belong. That is the whole of romance. And whether you will truly love a person depends on who wins. You,
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or your ego, which will demand a new dose. Consciousness acts as a witness. The will drags us along, and consciousness watches and realizes where it will lead. It cannot stop the will, so it just watches. Although, perhaps w
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see. We cannot cure the disease, but we can dull it with natural anesthesia. The first is love. More about that separately in the next video. The second is faith. Religion, ideology, science. It doesn't matter. We believe in something so as not to feel the void
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. A cardinal once said: "There is no anxiety more agonizing for man than to find, as soon as he is free, someone to bow down to." Lev Shestov loved to quote this. The third is work. We load ourselves with tasks so as not to think
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. The fourth is other people. A person runs to be in company so as not to remain alone with themselves. Last year , when I was broken, I was afraid to part ways after walks, even started walking friends home and inviting them
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out when it was pouring rain. Getting wet wasn't as scary as having to face that soul-crushing state of mind alone.
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I still do that, by the way. And there is another point. People grow close when they are broken, start using the other as a crutch, a temporary support, and when they get better, the crutch is no longer needed. After all, the
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selfish nature of man demands moving on . The vilest part is not the fact itself, but that the consciousness refuses to admit it. A person starts to believe: "I’m not using them. They are dear to me. Actually, I need them."
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And to believe this lie, they are ready to tell this crutch their most intimate secrets. Because if I trust them with my deepest thoughts, it means they are not a crutch, it means they truly mean something. This is how the ego
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justifies exploitation. But the person who agrees to be a crutch is also driven by a selfish desire. To feel strong and needed. One ego seeks support, the other seeks validation of its worth. That is why wounded people find each other so often. And by the
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way, the same person can want a crutch and simultaneously desire to be one. This is not a sin. It's just the sometimes unpleasant nature of humanity . I advise watching this guy's video, where he explains how the mind is ready
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to whitewash you even when you're doing trash. The fifth. Nostalgia. The consciousness cannot stand the futility of the present and slips in an illusion : things were better before. While forgetting the problems of that time, starting to recall only the good. It is
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a defensive trap of the mind. It provides an illusion of meaning where there is none. The sixth is hope. In agony, it becomes voluntary blindness.
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The psyche, in response to the unbearable, promises that everything will be fine in the future. A person endures, believes, and waits, but hope almost always abandons them, because it is often based not on reality, but on fear. It prevents one from truly living
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, only postponing the pain for later. When the pain is unbearable, the consciousness capitulates and begins to search for a higher meaning in suffering. I remember coming up with an entire philosophy of suffering just to give this hell at least some meaning.
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Because all of this cannot be happening for no reason. The alternative is despair. A person lives by the phrase: "Whatever happens, happens." It seems to them that they have accepted it. But there is still hope behind this phrase,
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because if he had truly accepted that nothing would get better, it would at least be bearable for him. A person believes what they do not believe, and does not believe what they do believe.
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Because admitting that you haven't found peace, but have instead despaired , is too difficult for a broken mind.
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Yes, despair is an anesthesia that hinders life and has side effects, but sometimes despair is just despair. The seventh is irony. Most interestingly, a person fears seriousness, loneliness, and pain. And so they devalue it all, turning heaviness into a joke. A person
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laughs when they are afraid. It is a defensive way to keep from going insane . That is why suffering people are often so cheerful in company. Irony helps you not to feel, but it does not let you process pain and move on. Like
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nostalgia, irony does not heal; it only distracts. It keeps you from falling, but also from getting up. There is also such a thing as reflection. Let me explain. For a long time, I have been annoyed by posts and videos whose
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message is something like "speaking my thoughts out loud.""I am trying to understand what kind of person I am and what is happening in my soul." I don't know if everything will be fine in my life, as I see this as a desperate
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attempt not to see. The insignificance, coldness, and absurdity of life. To not admit that you are just a ridiculous accident, a hostage of will and indifferent nature. An attempt by the mind to build a character out of itself
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to seem like the author of its own life , rather than just dust in the cosmos.
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There is no talk here of an imagined search for truth. Painkillers, nothing more. Everything to keep from going insane. After all, to admit this means to agree with your own powerlessness.
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Human consciousness is a fragile thing, after all. Yes, I know this, and that is why I do the same thing. Yes, the problem is not in reflection as such, but in its function, which becomes an anesthesia. But not all painkillers are
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the same. Love and human connection do not lead you away from reality, but rather give you the strength to be in it. While nostalgia, hope, and irony are already an attempt to escape. There are painkillers that do not kill the
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body, but put your presence to sleep. You don't die; you just quietly cease to be, mistaking it for rest. The difference is simple. After talking to a friend, you return to reality, but after deep nostalgia, you return to a
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world that has become even colder because you compared it to one that never existed. But who knows, maybe everything I am saying is also an anesthesia. A person can want happiness but choose suffering. This paradox, consider it to be about me. I am the
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author of my own suffering. And to stop being a sufferer, it is necessary to step out of your usual comfort zone.
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After all, pain has long since become a habit, and happiness is something unexplored. And a few more words regarding all those radical pessimists and ascetics. If you think that by giving up painkillers or restricting an already limited existence you will find
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some kind of truth? Well, in that case, I cannot understand you. It would be a good idea to ask yourself: "What will this imaginary truth give you, besides extra pain?""Any truth without warmth is simply pain. After all, nothing can
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compare in its truth and significance to death, before which both illusion and truth lose all meaning. Even Nietzsche believed that naked reality is unbearable for the human psyche, and we need painkillers to endure being. So use them, and don’t mess with your
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head with any pessimistic dogmatism. Besides internal anesthesia, consciousness also creates external forms. As I have already said in one of my videos, nothing means anything until you assign it yourself. We are the ones who give things meaning. Even family
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love exists only because we have designated our parents as meaningful. Nonsense about shared blood and family holiness has nothing to do with it. Yes , we shouldn't forget about biology, but that is not what we are talking about now. Consciousness cannot stand
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chaos; it must build order. That is why people create systems of religion, ideology, and science. It creates norms . Norms create labels, and labels kill living people. And behind all successes , endeavors, and ambitions lies a flight from an unbearable, meaningless
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reality. It is just a desperate attempt to give a short life meaning and establish one's status in an abstract hierarchy. To show that you are not a void. After all, in silence, a person cannot be self-sufficient just from the
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fact that they simply exist. Because the ego requires someone else to say:" You're so great and not like everyone else. "A human is not really an autonomous creature at all. Yes, it is pathetic, but very human. But dulling
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the pain does not mean curing it. And so, how do we cure it? Synthesis. I suggest remembering death. It is precisely thanks to death that life becomes rich and valuable. Death gives us time, and without time, there would
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be no human. We know we will die, but we cannot experience it. This gap is the illness of consciousness. If you cannot accept death, all that remains is to accept the fact that we cannot accept it. Many people make plans for
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the future. I don't want to sound pretentious, but I saw the result of this abstract future while walking through a village cemetery. Freedom is not" I can. "That’s it. Freedom is" I owe nothing. "And I choose for myself
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what I owe. You don't have to be happy. You just are. And that is enough. A short story. In my childhood, I was taken to visit my deceased great-grandmother, who was still at home, and all sorts of relatives and
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acquaintances came to pay their respects. So, on that day, I saw her body in the casket and the shoes she had asked to be kept with her. Then I got back into the car and burst into tears. For the realization came that
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everyone and everything will leave sooner or later, and I will follow. Since then, I started thinking about death every day," Memento mori. "These thoughts make everything, every moment, and every person valuable, sometimes even enemies. After all, most of the
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people I see now will inevitably become just shadows of the past in the future.
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No one and nothing is forever, and that is why it matters. And yet, I don't know if this is freedom or just exhaustion. Maybe I didn't accept death , but simply stopped being afraid?
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Maybe I am not free, but broken? And I call it freedom because it's easier that way. Although, perhaps that is exactly how it is. And if that's the case, then everything I said about freedom is just a beautiful lie.
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Consciousness is both the most terrible disease and the only cure. It makes us unhappy, but it also gives us the ability to love, remember, miss, and feel, making a person human. And yet, consciousness is not both one and the
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other. It is either one or the other. Everything depends on what you do with it. If you suppress it, it rots and poisons you. If you accept it, it hurts , but it cleanses you. But acceptance is work that never ends, and sometimes
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there is no strength left for it. By the way, I have to tell you about an interesting experience that showed that consciousness is plastic. Returning from the village in early September, while walking with a friend, I decided to grab the shawarma we used to get
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often. I hadn't eaten in two days, but I struggled to finish it, as its taste reminded me of the recent horror. But just four days later, I was alone in the kitchen, feeling glad and incredibly grateful for all the past
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experience. I listened to music and smelled the perfume that I now associate with that time. Yes, even though a couple of days ago, nearly sobbing, I was barely able to finish that shawarma. The clearest thoughts are born not in pain or joy, but in the
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detachment that follows them. Consciousness, like life, is illogical. A person can be filled with and freed from their own pain, because only living things are capable of feeling pain. If you are suffering, it means you are still alive. Nietzsche believed
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that devaluing lived experience, whatever it may be, is foolishness. After all, it is from this material, even if it is painful, that a personality is built. Any experience, even the hardest one, should not be erased. It must be acknowledged as your
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own. Then it stops being just pain and becomes a part of the story. It is precisely because of pain and death that a love for life is possible. But yes, although pain is part of the path and the conditions of the process of
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being, it doesn't change the fact that it causes a person to decay. And inventing excuses for it is dangerous folly. Many weep about the lack of meaning in life, but if life had some metaphysical meaning, there would be no
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life at all. It would turn into a faceless mechanism. Dostoevsky wrote:" Love life more than the meaning of it.
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"Life is a process, not a result. A definitive meaning would limit unlimited human will. Others dislike life because of the world's imperfection and dream of a utopia. But an ideal world is a static world. There is no struggle of opposites in it, and
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without struggle there is no movement, and without movement there is no life. Dialectics. Even Yevgeny Zamyatin wrote in" We "that an ideal world is possible only through ideal lack of freedom. In my Telegram channel, I shared an essay
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explaining why it is precisely because of our imperfection that humans are naturally freer than gods. I like to compare life to a theater. A good play won't work without drama, an antagonist , and an ending. But if the end is
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predetermined, does that mean we are not free? The short answer is no, because we don't choose what to play, but we do choose how to play.
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Determinism and freedom do not exclude each other. Alright, let's get back to the topic. Consciousness seeks to order everything, which is why it divides people into friends, acquaintances, and so on. But honestly, no matter how much I tried to consciously sort my
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surroundings, someone was always jumping from category to category. So I decided to give it up, stop assigning roles to people, and just let them be.
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This helps to avoid being a slave to expectations and gives freedom to both me and other people. After all, rigid labels and expectations often bring only disappointment. I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that I have no one at all, or perhaps I have
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everyone. Who knows? Let me arrange my thoughts in order and in Minecraft. Definitely don't forget to look at my skin. So, the ocean is like a metaphor for life. Chaotic, infinite, empty, and something we cannot control. This ice
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block under the water is the collective unconscious. It includes archetypes, fears, desires, and all memory. And this is our consciousness. This single block of sand above the water is all that we consider to be ourselves. Just a fragile part of who we are. Our
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consciousness, so as not to go mad from the frightening infinity and emptiness of the world, starts building a fortress thanks to the ego to keep from going insane. This sandcastle is our meanings, love, aspirations, faith, concepts, creativity, and everything we
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build. Sometimes it rains. It is a period of life when fear, emptiness, pain, and cold become stronger than usual. Moments of crisis, in short. In these moments, a person begins to build a fortress faster to feel safe. But in
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the rush, it turns out crooked, as it is built not for beauty or eternity, but for protection. Then death comes, the block and the structure on it disappear. The block of ice remains, for according to Jung, the collective
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unconscious is immortal. And in your place, information remains, which will only become visible once someone takes it up. And remember, whoever truly wants depth must descend into it themselves. Suppose there is you and there is a person you love. After all
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the trials and errors, you lost to another in a struggle that never even existed. If you truly loved, there will be conflicting feelings. On one hand, joy that your loved one is happy, even if not with you. On the other,
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suffering and a sense of worthlessness. In the first case, it is you who is rejoicing. In the second, your ego will suffer and punish you because it has lost the foundation for the fortress.
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The ego cannot bear it, and you become sick of yourself. It is important to remember, you are not your problems, and certainly not someone else's opinion. Since last year, I've come to love mirrors, for in them you can see
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not a faceless mechanism of suffering, but a living person who might actually mean something. Maybe I'm looking in the mirror even now just to feed the ego? It's possible. The ego is a hell of a servant. It doesn't need to be
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destroyed, it needs to be tamed. You can experience feelings without depending on them. And happiness is when you can rejoice despite a suffering ego. Who is this" you "that is greater than the ego? I don't know.
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I have said more than once that skepticism is the best medicine for a sober mind. Yes, but I want to add something. Second. The best medicine is other people. A person needs someone nearby, otherwise, they will go mad
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from their own insanity. And the more a person thinks, the greater the need for another person who, if necessary, will give them a sobering slap. But the paradox is that thinking people are often lonely, because among other things, they are well aware that their
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pain is of little use to anyone but themselves, and that sincerity also needs to be measured, as many fear it.
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Conclusion: for sobriety, take skepticism, and against madness, other people. But be careful, skepticism, as one of my commenters accurately noted, can become a dogma and slide into nihilism, and with people, you can end up in toxic company. And what follows
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from all this? A person is a selfish, fearful, and lonely creature. Their life is meaningless, accidental, and short. Is it even worth living? From a logical point of view, life is not worth the pain one pays for it. But
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that is precisely why it is worth living. To live in spite of life is absurd. Yes. Moreover, one cannot view life solely from the perspective of logic. Dostoevsky believed a person has the right to irrational acts, including the decision to keep living. People
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already choose suffering or destruction contrary to logic and self-interest. Because life is more than meaning. For a broken person who chooses to live anyway, without meaning, without hope, against the desire not to live, life becomes a pure act of will. I say this
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because I am currently living exactly this way, because this life is the only thing we have. Whether there is something after, we do not know, and if not, then all the more so. The stupidest decision I make every day is
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to live at least one more day. Not because I want to, but because I, like any other person, am driven by what I call the unconscious human will. Unlike conscious will, it is blind and stupid, and like a diabolical force, it
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prevents one from breaking the contract with life. As Cioran wrote:" Life is the friction between conscious and unconscious will. "The first decides how you will live, the second holds you firmly. Consciousness wants one thing, the will does another. Roughly speaking
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, if you are lying down, realizing that you need to do something, and you can and even want to do it, but for one reason or another you don't, that is a manifestation of the unconscious will.
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That is, if I were to give an everyday example. And also, everything I have said might simply be because I am lonely and afraid to admit it. Perhaps my entire philosophy is just sublimation. And if that is so, does it
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mean it is not true? Life is a tragedy that should be treated with understanding and respect. But everything I have spoken about can, at best, give life a sense of meaning. And meaning is not yet the desire to live.
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These are far from the same thing. After all, without the desire to live, the desire not to live can easily arise . But neither I nor any philosophy has the power to provide the desire to live . Forgive me, but reason and knowledge
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are powerless in the face of pain, despair, and basically any emotion, considering that a person suffers more in their head than in reality; lived experience and imagination are superior to limited knowledge. Therefore, all sorts of practical advice are not worth
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simple, quiet presence with someone who needs it. Because at rock bottom, advice does not work. Consciousness is a beast; it cannot be killed, because then you would die along with it. It cannot be fully tamed, because it is
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always stronger. Plus, consciousness is also heavily dependent on external circumstances. But one can live with it . Sometimes it sleeps, sometimes it strangles. And in those moments when it sleeps, you can breathe. It's not much, but we have nothing else. And I don't
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know if it can be tamed or if there is a way out. And you don't know either, but the play goes on, even if we don't know if it has an author. Well, that is all I have for now. Goodbye everyone,
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and thanks for the fish.
Topics:consciousnessexistentialismphilosophysufferingegowilldeathmeaning of lifesubjective realityself-awareness
