Alexandr Korol

That I saw the future, that something would happen and everyone would be talking about me, reading my book — yes, I assumed maybe this was it, maybe it was the pandemic, and something would happen now, maybe a flying saucer would appear, or maybe everyone in the world would die and only people in Petersburg would survive — and they would be my readers. Of course, I had thoughts like that, but none of it happened, and in the end, the pandemic had nothing to do with my “Alternative History” or with me. On the contrary, it was a bad event, and everyone suffered from it. If not physically, then psychologically. Even I suffered, because I endured all the stress people were experiencing, and I felt it — I had to hide from it all in a book. But at least, a lot of books got written. I even noticed that with the arrival of the pandemic, people split into two camps. There are those who, on the contrary, seemed to become kinder and hid away, each in their own little world, united with their family, with their values, and just disappeared — like I did. And there are others who, after the pandemic, became super brazen, aggressive, completely without boundaries, like madmen. And it’s as if everything split into these two camps. I won’t say that’s a good thing, and these aren’t exactly positive consequences of the pandemic. But again, for some reason, God or the system needed things to happen this way. But you see, I’m not about health — I don’t know those things. I’m more like in the movies “National Treasure” or “The Da Vinci Code.” I’m more about decoding symbols, about something mythological or historical. And even from a historical point of view, out of curiosity for time and history, I might take an interest in religions — but I’m not about politics, not about religions, not about health. That’s already some kind of material society, and society — I don’t need it. I’m interested in a library of old books and illustrations, I’m interested in everything lost — lost knowledge, lost history. I like finding connections, inconsistencies in it, drawing parallels with our time now, uncovering patterns. It’s a very kind, creative process. But that very social human life — no matter how much people tried to talk to me about it or asked for books on the topic — and I even wrote some books to help that society, it still felt like a different world, that social world. For them, I wrote books like “Dislove” — a book about the seven sins and the seven virtues — which was especially relevant at that time, because people’s inner boundaries were being erased, and it seemed to them that everything bad was allowed. And I tried through books to explain that such things have