Alexandr Korol

in that moment you cannot think about the fact that it should be captured at all. Isn’t that fascinating? And only when I grounded myself a little — if I may put it rather roughly — only when I grounded myself, say at night, when I wasn’t asleep yet but had forced myself to do some work, maybe had a phone call, only then could I begin to think, to recall what had happened that day, and somehow even try to evaluate it. That’s how it was. So with difficulty, at night, I sometimes managed to look at it all from a slight distance, to understand, even just faintly, what kind of day it had been. Which means that throughout the entire week, everything that happened seemed to evaporate, to dissolve — never fixed, never recorded. And it’s as if nothing is remembered — as if it never was — and I might not recall much at all. But that doesn’t mean my memory is poor. I know exactly what needs to be done in order to remember, to recall, to record. Yet, you see, this is where the paradox lies. For me to remember, it would mean leaving the world of heaven — this magical world — and stepping once more into the other world, the opposite one, let’s say the material, earthly world. But that isn’t the task before me right now. In front of me is my phone, with notes where I’ve, with some effort, managed to capture just a little — things I absolutely must expand upon and explore in my ninth volume of “Alternative History”. I’m in such a state now that... I might not even recall in a minute what it is I’m saying right now. Imagine that. Or rather, if someone asked me, I would still be able to list it all in the same way, but it would be as if I didn’t “remember” it — like it comes from somewhere else. Not from my mind, but from another place entirely. That’s very unusual.

I have many notes here, both old and new — some things I’ve already touched on, but I can repeat them again. There’s one point I especially want to emphasize, something I’ve recorded for myself: how the loss of this heavenly world happens — how it fades, how you disconnect from it. And, conversely, how you enter it and become part of it — what it actually depends on. I’ve noticed that when you’re in the world of heaven, your conversations are completely different — about entirely different things. Your focus of attention shifts — naturally, because you’re in another world. When you’re in the heavenly world, your focus is directed elsewhere altogether.