Alexandr Korol

And here’s something else interesting. Tarot cards… She says: “Can you read
for me, draw a card?” I draw, and the card “Death” comes up for her. I ask the
artificial intelligence what this card can mean for a person over the coming year.
It gives the information that it’s as if when the old life and the old personality of
a person die, and a different life and a different personality begin. It’s a rebirth,
and not something frightening. Serafima, naturally, is in shock from all these
signs and so on, but tries as hard as she can not to attach significance to it. It’s like
a friend I had, in whose presence all the messengers came to me in childhood.
And afterwards he still distorted it all and said: “Alex just talks with some drunks
and bums, they’ll tell him some nonsense, and he believes it.” That is, he still
can’t believe in it, as if he’s afraid to believe that this could be. And it’s the same
with her, with this girl Sima. In the end she thinks that everything will be as she
wants and that everyone will wait for her while she does her “chicken-brained”
business. But no one will wait for her, though she thinks they will. That is, she
says afterwards: “Well, Alex, you fly off wherever you’re planning to go, I’ll
finish my things. We’ll write to each other and decide what’s what.” I say: “Yes,
of course, all right, all right.” But I don’t change my opinion. No, of course,
anything can still happen, but this God who spoke through me was very strict.
That is, it was such that I had to say all of this, and she had to make a decision.
It’s precisely she who must make the choice: does she believe in me and in God,
or does she after all not believe in me and in God, but lives in these fears and
illusions of the world of sins where people live. And she chose the latter after
all. Of course, maybe something will happen in her life now, because the higher
powers can do absolutely anything with her so that she’d believe in God now —
but whether they’ll dance attendance on her like that and do this work or not, I
don’t know. I don’t know. And here’s something else I noticed… Here I am, the
Spirit, I already live in the world of the Spirit, and everything’s magical. And so,
imagine, all these days while I was talking with her, I couldn’t be in the Spirit.
Only when I needed to go far off and hide, to be left alone, did I begin at least to
hear the voice, to hear God, and some “cosmos” would come back. Well, “cosmos”
is how I describe the state. But with her there’s none of it. She’s simply as if…
You know, there are alchemical pictures where there’s a ladder leading up to the
star, and a man stands there with a heavy ball chained to his leg, like a weight.
It’s as if she’s chained to this material, social world, and I couldn’t with her…