I am immensely happy to introduce you to the living author. No, no, I’m not talking about the fact that some “author has died,” I’m talking about the fact that he’s ALIVE. So alive that everything - inside and around - goes into a sparkling whirlpool of words-feelings-emotions. Oleg Panfil, originally from Transnistria, Transnistria (“Nistru” is the Moldovan name for the Dniester) - with his eyes closed, enters a new type of narrative, which, despite the distinct author’s “I,” offers a way out. Exit to where, behind the raw flesh of a non-literary diary, stuttering with slurred spoken text, another world arises (however, it has always been there) - incredibly beautiful, crazy, cruel and incredibly kind. Instead of cremating the text with critical-literary crap, I would like to give an analogy from a completely different area. Once, Yulia, my wife, and I were on a folklore expedition in the Kemerovo region. Tired of alcoholic village nonsense, we went out onto the highway, caught a KAMAZ and three hours later found ourselves in a very, very strange place. It was evening, the sky was blue, heart-rendingly transparent blue. And we... we stood near a giant sand pit. There was no one around, no one at all, only small green hills, flowers... I looked into the quarry and saw the incredible. There, in the depths, a railway was laid. Circular. And along this railway a small yellow train without carriages made circles. I thought it was a hallucination. No, it was really like that. No dope, no acid - it was the most amazing trip of my life. This quarry, similar to a Greek amphitheater, this steam locomotive - palpably iron, yellow - I don’t know how to say it so that it becomes clear - came to mind when I entered Oleg’s text. At first this text did not let me in; it seemed “done” to me. But only the first few pages, the reading of which turned out to be the time that precedes the Entrance. Then everything started to turn around. Through. Through. The clumsiness of the word turned into the only possible, verified clarity. The roof was completely blown off. That's enough for the preface. My further reasoning makes no sense, you just need to read the text. Everything else is in the afterword. Vladimir Itkin The text contains profanity