Page 83

[Alexandr Korol]

even my relatives used to express their dismay, saying, “Alex, who died?” When I was little, they would say that to me, and I would reply:

– Why? No one died. What do you mean?
– Why are you listening to this kind of music?
– Well, I like it. I don’t associate it with anything bad.

And for all the people who are, let’s call them material and social – in other words, the world of living people – all this music is associated with something sad and gloomy. And all socially-material people want to listen to something cheerful, something with an active rhythm. But I always resonated with films and music that had something otherworldly, and anywhere in music where there were echoing sounds, some kind of wailing, or when it carried a gothic and church-like atmosphere – that always resonated with me deeply. I called it “the world without mind.” I called it “the nameless world.” I used to say that it felt like there were certain people, very few of them, but they were like me – they saw the world from the outside, and they weren’t really people. I called them entities. I also wrote that they were like angels, unaffected by anything human. They had no human needs, no desire to please people, to accommodate everyone. They didn’t care about money or any material goods – none of it interested or concerned them. And the only thing I didn’t like about this world, this frequency of vibrations, let’s call it that, which I had since childhood, was that there were no people there – that no one understood it, and you were alone in it. I even called it a frequency of “loneliness,” as if you were completely alone with yourself, listening to music – like the track Portishead – “Undenied” – and as you listened, it truly felt like you were outside of society, outside of the world of people, as if you were in an otherworldly realm, looking at everything through glass. Watching people, watching everything – everything moving as if in slow motion. And you realize that you can be anyone, anywhere, live in any country, choose any profession, dress up as anything, transform into anyone – but none of it matters to you. And so it turns out that before I, let’s say, immersed myself in the material and social world, about ten years ago, before that, I was more in this – on this “mindless” frequency. If I suddenly met someone at a café,