Imagine yourself with an eclair instead of a text (as one of our authors said). What kind of eclair would it be? Will we eat it with a cuppa tea or while we are sitting by the window or leafing through another book? For us, a new text is like a new filling or a companion to it. Text with taste of introspection, current insight or a bitter experience.

We are interested in the texts created by people somewhere on the periphery. Yes, we can distinguish the beautiful ideas and thoughts even from the distance.

We publish essays, translations, critics, poesie and other experimental formats.

Our editorial staff took a break for a few months, but now we're back with a new issue theme: escapism.

This word has been known since the fifteenth century and literally meant an escape from danger. The modern meaning as an emotional or mental escape from the surrounding reality appeared in the middle of the nineteenth century; by this time, people had undergone violent uprisings and terror, the collapse of states, had been exhausted by countless wars, and large-scale social upheavals. Fiction, theater, and painting have become the epitome of escapism—an escape from reality. This is the time of the emergence of romanticism, impressionism, and so on.

The sufferings of the young Werther, the blue flower of Novalis, the calm idyll of flowers and landscapes in the paintings of Pissarro, Monet are an escape from the industrial modernization of the city.

We suggest that the authors write fiction, poetry or an essay that reveals one of the motives of escapism—self-suppression or self-disclosure—identified by the Norwegian psychologist Frode Sneseng. The first helps a person escape from negativity by hiding in isolation, whether conscious or not, eventually finding himself in the abyss of derealization and separating himself from the world in all its manifestations. The second expands and beautifies a person's life through new experiences or knowledge, drawn from the artistic world, and inspires new achievements in the real world.