Alexandr Korol

this is enough. Right now the higher powers, the masons, the aliens have given me a bride and said: “Here is your choice, Alex, please — you can refuse your path of masonry, you can forget about the aliens and the books. Here, please, is a bride — start a family and be happy. Here is a whole multiverse for you, a whole world.” That is — they are offering this to me right now, can you imagine, right now. And I can say “yes.” And then what? Is that it? I will forget everything that was, and drown in this dream of family? Or will it be that, after a year or two, I will wake up, understand that I have come to know family, that I don’t need it, and that now it will no longer steal my attention — and then I’ll destroy the marriage, leave the children without a father, and depart for the world of the star? But that, too, is strange. I would not want such an outcome of events, and I would not want to let my female friend down like that, you understand? And so, what is one to do? Or should I simply refuse right away, without slotting myself into this, having understood that this is a temptation? After all, the world of the moon is the world of sufferings, the world of problems, the world of dissatisfaction, the world of the lost ones. The world of the sun is also an illusion — only one where you make plans, dream about a happy future, and you are eternally happy, you rejoice in everything, and you want this happiness, and everything you have is built on this happiness. And it is paradise. But why do I need yet another illusion? After all, the moon and the sun are extremes, they are illusions, and yet I do, after all, want to be no one, nothing — that is, zero — that is, who I originally was when I first appeared, when I had neither feelings, nor thoughts, nor emotions, when I saw through everyone, read everyone’s thoughts, and was consciousness, one hundred percent attention. After all, I am, in the end, walking towards this — and right now it’s as if I am passing through some kind of exam. As if I am standing on some last or second-to-last rung, and I must make a choice.

And what does the choice consist in? If I now refuse this female friend and choose the path of the star, it sounds, sort of, wow, right: “Alexandr, you were heading towards this all along — the Philosopher’s Stone and all that.” But won’t it be the case that, because I refused a family, refused this female friend, I will be thinking about it, that this will steal my attention — since I haven’t come to know it — and that I will be regretting that I missed the chance and that such a chance won’t come again? Such an illusion can happen with my mind, you understand?