A Fly

So I was sitting in Church and praying. And there was a big fly flying around the Church and as one woman was kneeling on the prie-dieu the fly came near her and she tried swatting it away with her hands a few times.

As I was reading my prayer book the fly landed on my prayer book and I kept still and it started crawling along the top of the book as I was praying, holding the book in my hands. The front, then for a moment the back. It was not afraid of me. And I stared at it and thought: "This is not a fly. This is the devil, come to visit us and disrupt our prayer". It is a thought I have sometimes. Then it flew away but it came to land near me on the pews a few times and crawled about a bit and then it went away and I no longer saw it. It was a big ugly black fly, hairy, with black eyes.

Sometimes I am afraid of flies as I see them as signs of the devil. The same with moths and water bugs and cats. Especially water bugs. I know it sounds superstitious.

Roses

Julian today. He has a crush. He asked me to get him roses to give to his aide. He is in love with her or something. So I got him five roses to give to her. I saw his sister too. I love Julian. But he is a funny guy. He is very pious. And his beliefs are strange as a faithful follower of Most Holy Family Monastery. So I visited him. He is my good friend.

He spoke of how he is worried God is angry at him for his sinful past. And I reassured him that he has been trying to be good for a long time. For me it has been twelve years. But time really flies for me ever since I was diagnosed. Twelve years in the blink of an eye. It does not seem so long, but the days are never ending. I am faithful.

It has been a while since I have written anything. I have abandoned my writing. I haven't looked at it in a while or began something new. I deleted most of my writing except for one story and I still have the two screenplays. I know nothing will come of them, but they were my own ideas and my thoughts on life and love of women. It was important to me for a few months and now it is not. I was driven to write them, and now they are put away. When I was a child I had the things of a child, but now that I am grown I put away the things of a child and take up the things of a man. When he was a child she gave him a toy to make him smile but now that he is all grown he has no need of toys.

It has been a while, but I have become very un-materialistic. I live simply. I need food to live. Other than coffee I do not have many non-necessities. Sometimes with my spare change I buy religious items. A cross, a rosary, a book. This month I ordered a missal. I have a 1962, this one is a 1945. I am happy with my simple life. It seems strange to me that many people are materialistic. Perhaps I am wise, I do not know.

But tonight is the last night before Lent. I am celebrating. I think of God, but I am not praying so much today except to give thanks and my rosary. And I am going out to dinner with my mother, and I am having beer tonight before I go to bed. And then tomorrow the time of penance begins.

But like a trappist, or a buddhist monk I am happy with less. I find that once one's basic needs are met, one does not need much to be happy. But I am not starving or being tortured. Sometimes I wonder what my future will be like if I am living in a mental institution with other crazy people when I get older. I think I would like it as long as they don't abuse me.

So it is good visiting Julian in the nursing home. And I will celebrate tonight.

I am happy so I am boring. Only suffering and pain are really interesting. So I am a boring person. I am looking forward to the spring when there will be more birds, more singing, and more bees and butterflies again. I will go on my daily walks when the weather is warmer and look at the beautiful flowers and the life living and the leaves on the trees. But things like that do not interest people, all we care about is sex and kinkiness.

I am a child. And then there is twitter. I hope you enjoy carne-vale and have a happy and productive Lent. For Lent I will fast. One meal at night, most often my rice and lentils, and in the afternoon I plan on having a collation of toast with butter and jelly and coffee. Some people care about the food bits and the fasting. I will not be eating any meat all Lent and no fish.

Think of death. Our only friend. I want to have a human skull on my desk to look at and hold in my hand. I wonder if amazon sells them.

Later: I am back from dinner. I am having my beer now. Slowly, not too much, but enough to make me sleep easy. At dinner, and it was a benefit dinner for the drama club of the local Catholic Church, our priest was there, Father H. He came up to me and said I was a "saintly man". I guess he sees me praying in Church sometimes. I told him he should have benediction more, and if he did, I would go. And he told me that at Saint Benny's they were going to extend Eucharistic Adoration to all day which is nice. More people get to go and look at Jesus. Sometimes I go and read from my prayer books. But it is nice to look into His heart and make little ejaculations or prayerful thoughts and just gaze at Him. When you look at Him, He looks at you. It is real. I don't believe, I know. There are some things you know which don't need explanation. Julian is wrong, Jesus it there in the Blessed Sacrament. I know he is. Julian is blind. I can see. God would not abandon all the world, except for a few thousand people. He is present even until the end of the world.

But I am a boring person. I am happy. It is good to drink beer. I was talking to Julian about sex and we are  both strict on that. I told him, that for sex to be good, the man and woman should get together and pray to God and then say, please give us a child, before they engage in the act every time, and only then would sex be good. To pray for a child. I do not want to have a child, because I am too crazy to be a good Father. The only reason I wish I were sane, is because if I were sane I could support a wife and a family and have children. I would love children. But I am not able to support them and no wife would have me. But I am happy enough, even though I am alone. I used to be addicted to sex, but now I am free of that addiction. I know what sex is, but now I am like a little child who knows nothing about sex and has no desire for it as if it were completely irrelevant to him. Even though I love women still. There is a woman I love, but I do not want to marry her. If anything I hope to meet her one day in heaven and then we can have a long conversation that lasts forever and ever. But none of us deserve heaven. We are wicked little brats fit for nothing but damnation. The priests would do best to lie to us and say that all of us are saved and let us have a little pleasure before our damnation. A little pleasure before the infinite suffering. But I am happy so I am boring. Have peace and give a pence to the good God. I do not hate Him, even if there is a hell.

Going To Church

Sunday is the best day of the week. I have a routine that I have been following. In the morning I wake up and I drink coffee. I have a few cups. Then I go to the subway. My Father drives me most of the time. I get on the train and go and go and go. I am never sure which train I will take and which line it will run on and if it will be going local or express but I can get there either way so I take whichever train comes first. When I get to the city sometimes I have to go to the bathroom because of the coffee and if I do I can go to the public restrooms at Bryant Park or at the Port Authority. When I get into the city I like to go to Holy Innocents for Vespers and Benediction. Vespers is in Latin and I do not read along in the little booklets that have the prayers in English. I just listen and I watch. And after Vespers they have a short little Benediction. I wish they would have Jesus Exposed all throughout Vespers but they do not. They just take Him out, say a few prayers and sing a little, do the blessing, and put Him back again right away. He is only exposed for a minute or two with no silence. But it is a blessing from Jesus. After that is over the people clear out and go home. I watch the servers come out from the sacristy in their street clothes and the priest in his cassock. Then I walk East a few blocks and go to the Church of Our Savior. I sit in the back or kneel and either read or say prayers in silence, depending on how my day is. When it is time I go to our little upper room for Mass. I get there on time for the rosary before Mass. Tom leads for fifteen decades and on Sundays that is my daily rosary and some times I go to confession. Then Church starts and it is so very beautiful. I try to go to Communion. When Mass is over I usually hang out and often talk to people. Most days we go get coffee and food afterwards and talk. And then I take the subway home. That is my day, the best day of the week.

The picture is the Church of Our Saviour.

I Will Cry Like A Young Swallow

1

Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy great mercy. And according to the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my iniquity. [4] Wash me yet more from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. [5] For I know my iniquity, and my sin is always before me.

[6] To thee only have I sinned, and have done evil before thee: that thou mayst be justified in thy words and mayst overcome when thou art judged. [7] For behold I was conceived in iniquities; and in sins did my mother conceive me. [8] For behold thou hast loved truth: the uncertain and hidden things of thy wisdom thou hast made manifest to me. [9] Thou shalt sprinkle me with hyssop, and I shall be cleansed: thou shalt wash me, and I shall be made whiter than snow. [10] To my hearing thou shalt give joy and gladness: and the bones that have been humbled shall rejoice.

[11] Turn away thy face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. [12] Create a clean heart in me, O God: and renew a right spirit within my bowels. [13] Cast me not away from thy face; and take not thy holy spirit from me. [14] Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation, and strengthen me with a perfect spirit. [15] I will teach the unjust thy ways: and the wicked shall be converted to thee.

[16] Deliver me from blood, O God, thou God of my salvation: and my tongue shall extol thy justice. [17] O Lord, thou wilt open my lips: and my mouth shall declare thy praise. [18] For if thou hadst desired sacrifice, I would indeed have given it: with burnt offerings thou wilt not be delighted. [19] A sacrifice to God is an afflicted spirit: a contrite and humbled heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. [20] Deal favourably, O Lord, in thy good will with Sion; that the walls of Jerusalem may be built up.

[21] Then shalt thou accept the sacrifice of justice, oblations and whole burnt offerings: then shall they lay calves upon thy altar.

2

 [10] I said: In the midst of my days I shall go to the gates of hell: I sought for the residue of my years.

[11] I said: I shall not see the Lord God in the land of the living. I shall behold man no more, nor the inhabitant of rest. [12] My generation is at an end, and it is rolled away from me, as a shepherd's tent. My life is cut off, as by a weaver: whilst I was yet but beginning, he cut me off: from morning even to night thou wilt make an end of me. [13] I hoped till morning, as a lion so hath he broken all my bones: from morning even to night thou wilt make an end of me. [14] I will cry like a young swallow, I will meditate like a dove: my eyes are weakened looking upward: Lord, I suffer violence, answer thou for me. [15] What shall I say, or what shall he answer for me, whereas he himself hath done it? I will recount to thee all my years in the bitterness of my soul.

[16] O Lord, if man's life be such, and the life of my spirit be in such things as these, thou shalt correct me, and make me to live. [17] Behold in peace is my bitterness most bitter: but thou hast delivered my soul that it should not perish, thou hast cast all my sins behind thy back. [18] For hell shall not confess to thee, neither shall death praise thee: nor shall they that go down into the pit, look for thy truth. [19] The living, the living, he shall give praise to thee, as I do this day: the father shall make thy truth known to the children. [20] O Lord, save me, and we will sing our psalms all the days of our life in the house of the Lord.

Thinking on this. 

So Yes, I Do Believe In Fortune Tellers And Sibyls.

Thinking about Communion. Just got back from Benediction. As you know I like going to benediction in the local Catholic Churches. It makes me think about Communion. I have gotten to be a liberal. I think the Novus Ordo does have Jesus. I used to think it did not. So I think Jesus is there and I go to Him.

But about the Masses, I don't know. Karen says they are valid but not licit. I still do not want to go to Novus Ordo Masses for the most part. To me it is still like a fraud and I wish it would go away forever soon and be replaced by the Old Mass once again. But that leaves the indult. As I mentioned before, I went to an indult Mass said by Cardinal Zen on Saturday. It was beautiful. Barbara also went but I did not see her. For the first time since my conversion (in full), I went to Communion at an indult Mass. They had taken the altar rail away but we all knelt by the steps and received on the tongue. But I contemplated it during Mass and came to the conclusion that I was in communion with Cardinal Zen so, I went up to receive Jesus as a sign of that Communion. If I believe Jesus is really there, and it is not a Novus Ordo Mass, I figured I could go to Communion. Cardinal Zen may even be some sort of hero, as a leader of the Chinese Church.

So be it. I guess I do not want to think Jesus has abandoned the Church and there are over a billion Catholics who do not have the sacraments while a few hundred thousand only have the sacraments and can be saved. I do firmly believe it is better to go to the Old Mass, and if one has no Latin Mass to go to, I might even recommend staying home, and I still go there to the little mission I have always gone to but my thinking is a little wider so to speak. I consider Lifeboat Louis to be a good Catholic.

Do you know who lifeboat Louis is? I am not sure if he is still alive. He lived on a boat and protests abortion. He is a devout Catholic and looks like a homeless man, old and white-bearded. And when I last saw him he used to wear tee-shirts with Catholic pictures on them, I remember him wearing the Divine Mercy image. The tee-shirt was dirty, but he did not smell. He goes to all different kinds of Catholic Churches, and once he came to our little SSPX mission and received Communion there which is a statement. I met him the first time I was invited out for coffee after Mass. Out of nowhere, this old man who was not at Mass came up to us and sat down and started talking to me. He had pictures he drew, one of a boat and one of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and he gave me prayers and pro-life articles. I don't know how he knew we were there eating after Mass, and how he knew we were Catholics and would be interested in his company. We only ate there a couple of times. He did not come to Mass with us. I guess it was providence. Louis was arrested many times for his pro-life work and he was a good man. I still have the things he gave me in a binder. Sometimes I look at his pictures. The New York Times wrote an article about him a few years ago. I would like to see him again and talk to him.

Sometimes I feel like I am all alone in the world. I am happy. I pray to God. But I do not have many friends who are like me. My beliefs are strange. I do have Julian. He is the closest I have to a friend. But we do not believe all of the same things. But we are close. And next I would count Karen. She is like me, but again we do not believe all the same things. I do not tell either of them that I go to Novus Ordo Churches to pray with Jesus. Julian would say Jesus is not there and Karen would say that if you go there the devils get you. I do not think the devils are getting me. I am with Jesus. But I feel alone with God.

Do you really hate television like I hate television? I can't stand it. I stopped watching regularly twenty years ago and now in my peace I cannot stand it. Everything on it is in my mind either stupid or wicked. I really do think it is the devil's tabernacle. A funny thing one of the mystics said was that in the end times everyone will have a little box in their houses that they sit in front of and that the devil talks to them through the little boxes. That is television. My parents watch television and when they do I get upset. I want to kick the television until it breaks like in that German movie. You know the one. But I do not because it is not my house. Sometimes I yell. Especially when they watch the news. My parents watch the liberal news shows while I am conservative, in a different way, not the common Libertarian way or the Neo-con way. I just see everyone as satan's minions, including my parents. Satan's minions who are addicted to the devil's tabernacle. I am crazy, yes I know. But I do not understand why so many people are so stupid or wicked that they watch television. I guess there are some good shows. When I was younger I liked certain foreign movies, the kind that were usually not on television. But overall it was mostly trash to me.

Are there some sins that are so great that they are beyond the power of absolution? I think of this. The common opinion is that with repentance and confession any sin can be forgiven. But there are also opinions of some saints that for certain people, they have gone too far and cannot be forgiven. Perhaps, since repentance is itself a grace from God, for certain people God will not grant them repentance. So it would mean that if you are sorry for your sins and ask God's forgiveness, it is a sign that you are not among the already damned. But what about Voltaire? I am not afraid anymore. I feel peace and comfort.

About Eucharistic Adoration. I spoke of my new habit (it was new in August) of visiting Novus Ordo Churches for Eucharistic Adoration on Cathinfo and someone responded that they used to do that and they thought that they had reached a high level of prayer, the unitive way with Jesus and that it was very different from the illuninative way but now he no longer goes and he has fallen lower in the spiritual life. And I asked him why he does not go back and continue to pray there. He never responded. But I am happy going there. I would that I could go there and look at Jesus's heart every day. I am an honest man. I am not trying to deceive anyone. I do not speak of everything, but I do not lie to people. One thing that troubles me is the idea that people receive Communion sacrilegiously. I know that there are a lot of people who go to Church who do not believe or do not go to confession, but they still receive Jesus in the Eucharist. This only heaps coals of torment upon the soul and tortures Jesus, yet they still go. If I were the devil I would not want to make the Masses invalid. I would want them to be valid, but have nobody truly believe or be repentant but always receive Communion so all of the souls commit greater sins and are punished more harshly in hell. So that speaks to my belief that Jesus is really there. He is there and the heartless bastards, along with those who do not know any better, are torturing him. Not only does he go through the torture of Calvary at every Mass, but in every individual sacrilegious Communion he is tortured individually and the suffering he endures in each blackened soul is greater than the sufferings of all the damned in hell. Who knows, perhaps I am among those who torture Jesus. Honestly, I do not think I am, and I hope and pray that I am not.

What does Holy Communion give you, if you receive it in a state of mortal sin? All it does is make you suffer more in hell and it makes your heart more like a stone and less like flesh. Do you so want to torment Jesus that you will do so even at the cost of more torment for yourself? And if you do not believe, what is the point of going up there to eat a little bit of bread as an unbeliever? And in the hand? People speak of those like Joe Biden, but most of those who receive are no better than him and in their dirty grubby hands. I have the idea that when I die they should have a requiem Mass and the priest will not give out Communion to avoid the abominable sacrilege. I think I try to be an honest man. I have secrets, yes, but I try not to lie to myself or to you or to Jesus. I feel alone. Asperges me, Domine, hyssopo et mundabor, Lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor. I am feeling like a Jansenist today I guess.

I do feel alone. I was speaking to Karen and saying how we have a big city and only about thirty people come to our little chapel for Mass and if you count all of the traditional Masses, there are still not a lot of people. There are not a lot of us. But there are good people I think who go to the New Mass also, though I imagine the percentage of the good is lower there.

I know when I go to the local Novus Ordo Church, the one near my house is open all day, but few people go there to pray or to visit Jesus, other than me. There is a man and a woman who come together and pray some prayers together for a few minutes, and the men who work there, and sometimes one of the priests walks by, but there are as many homeless men who are there to stay warm in the winter than there are people to pray, except during Eucharistic Adoration. There was one homeless man who prayed and he knelt down before Jesus in the tabernacle in the most profound way.

So are there some sins too great to be forgiven? What if one worshiped Satan as a witch and sold one's soul to the devil, could one then be forgiven? Karen said she knew people who made deals with the devil and they are beyond prayer so she does not pray for them. I hope they can be forgiven, though I imagine they would need exorcisms. I know a little about devils as a hyper-religious schizo who believes his condition is caused as much by the influence of demons as by bad luck that runs in the family. I really wish I remembered the visit of the chaplain when he said an exorcism over me and gave me a New Testament with the Psalms in Spanish. I was supposed to contact him after I got out and his contact info may have been in the Bible, but they stole the Bible from me and I lost it so I did not talk to him again. I was supposed to pray two psalms. I wonder if he thinks about me ever. 

But sometimes I think nearly everyone is a devil. Including you, dear reader. Are you a devil? But no, it is better to think everyone is a mere sinner, as I am. I often think that you can tell whether or not a man was good just by looking at him. A sinner's face becomes distorted over time, and a good man's face becomes holy-looking. A trained eye can tell just by looking at him. I believe Prof. Plinio claimed to be able to do this, to be able to tell the state of a man's soul by looking into his eyes. I do not know how to judge this, but it is something to think about.

But in this. I imagine there are a lot of people who can do this. Especially wicked people. They gain powers from the demons. They can tell the future to a degree. But I do not know their secrets from experience. I just have my crazy ideas. A girl did once try to predict my future using tarot cards. She said I would meet a new woman in my life but she did not give me details.

So yes, I do believe in fortune tellers and sibyls. They do have power. And the apothecary can give you a potion to cause a boy to fall in love with you. But there is a price. What is the price? But how do I hate television! So much. So much. I am glad I am not forced to watch it, but it grieves me that my family does watch it. Every time they turn on that television they are selling their soul to the devil one more time for a little comfort. Like a cigarette with smoke from the fires of hell. Ten thousand times already? What would one more matter? One more time my love. Things fall apart. 

But thank you for reading my blog. This was a long and strange one. I hope it makes your day a little better. A little better without television.

Saint Valentine's Day

Today my father got two stents. The surgery if you could call it that was in Mount Sinai Hospital on the upper east side. The head doctor was an Indian. I went in to the city with my father and mother but I left early, before the surgery because I was nervous and stressed. And a little bored I must admit. It was breaking my routine and my reaction was a sign of my weakness. I went home and felt fine soon after. And went to Eucharistic Adoration and prayed and ordered pizza for us and now I am on the computer.

But today is Valentine's Day. I was talking to Julian the other day and I mentioned this day for some reason and he corrected me twice. He said "SAINT Valentine's Day". So it is. I am alone but I am happy enough so I am not sad. I have no one to be my valentine. It would be nice to have a wife but considering my condition and my sensibilities and desires it will likely never happen. I remember the movie by Tarkovsky where the man goes to bed with the witch named "Maria" to save the world from a nuclear holocaust. I have to watch that movie again, though I preferred Andrei Rublev. My brother told me to watch it. Why? Does someone want to make a deal? Is there a witch who wants to go to bed with me so the devil can grant favors? Like me, the ambulance takes him away to the nut house, and our house also burned down, though I did not set the fire, and it was not so vast or so beautiful. The internet says that the first time they burned down the house with the camera rolling the camera malfunctioned so they lost the footage and had to rebuild the house and burn the house down again, and the second burning is in the film. "In the beginning was the Word."

So it looks like my father is okay after getting the stents. He should be home tonight. Tomorrow I hope to go into the city to see Cardinal Zen say a High Mass. And then Sunday, the best day of the week. I hope to live. I am alive. The living, the living will give praise to Thee as I do this day. I like that prayer. Things are looking up and there are little birds flying. I did not speak about it but yesterday after Benediction I was walking down 118th street and as I always do, I saw the grackles hanging out. There were dozens of them again and I watched them for a few minutes and listened to them. As dad said they are a spiritual presence. I always see them when I go to the beggar's Church on the south side of the avenue. I am not afraid. Peace be to you all. Now it is almost time to go to the blessing!

His Face Shone Like The Sun

My life is happy now. My father is having a stent put in on Friday. It should not be a problem as it is a routine procedure. My brother may be coming down here to see us on Thursday and leaving Friday morning. I would like to talk to him. My brother still smokes cigarettes. I wish he wouldn't. Because it is a bad addiction. And it costs money so it is not worth it. And it makes you unhealthy. I think I can see it in his face. My brother works and goes to school. Things I used to do but have not since I went crazy. I have a degree from university.

It was said of Abba Sisoes that when he was at the point of death, while the Fathers were sitting beside him, his face shone like the sun. He said to them, 'Look, Abba Anthony is coming.' A little later he said 'Look, the choir of the prophets is coming.' Again his countenance shone with brightness and he said, 'Look, the choir of apostles is coming,' His countenance increased in brightness and lo, he spoke with someone. Then the old men asked him, 'With whom are you speaking, Father?' He said, 'Look, the angels are coming to fetch me, and I am begging them to let me do a little penance.' The old man said to him, 'You have no need to do penance, Father.' But the old man said to them, 'Truly, I do not think I have even made a beginning yet.' Now they all knew that he was perfect. Once more his countenance suddenly became like the sun and they were all filled with fear. He said to them, 'Look, the Lord is coming and he's saying, "Bring me the vessel from the desert."' Then there was as a flash of lightening and all the house was filled with a sweet odor.

My brother told me I can be a hermit in our little house in Richmond Hill. I try to be good and I am fasting now. It is not difficult. I am already used to it and do not feel too hungry. After one gets started and gets over the first hump it gets easier. I would like to be a hermit. I like going to Church to pray during the day. There are not many people who go there to keep Jesus company. Sometimes I see one or two people, but never a crowd. Except for when there is Eucharistic Adoration and Benediction. Then there are a few people, but not many. And then on Sundays when I go to Churches and to Mass. I would like to be a hermit. I do not know how to pray. I like praying but I do not have a lot of prayers to say. So for the rest of the time I just try to be happy. And I am happy. I have no work to do and I am feeble-minded. I do not watch television. I look on the computer. Sometimes I copy out my Catechism, and sometimes I read. Praying is my best time. I do not get tired of praying. I just feel strange being in Church all the time. I don't want other people to see me. Otherwise I would go there often. I wish they would always have Jesus exposed on the altar so I could look into His heart instead of simply knowing He is there behind the door of the tabernacle. I don't think many people believe in the real presence. Or if they do they do not act upon it. If they believed everyone would spend their free time before Jesus, gazing into His heart and looking at Him and talking to Him. I read in the desert fathers that one of the fathers said I no longer fear God. Now I love Him and love expels fear from the heart. I feel like that. I am not afraid. I am happy and I love. If it is a delusion it is a happy delusion. I am not being tortured or stressed out or scourged. I am not a great saint or a prophet, but I love God. Even if He is an illusion. I believe in Him.

I remember when I first converted. I was filled with a burning fire from the devils. And my thoughts were full of despair and my sins were always before me and I could not imagine how I could ever be forgiven. I saw God and felt that He was angry with me and perhaps that I had sinned too much and He would never forgive me, but wanted to cast me into hell a an example for the world and a victim of infinite justice. But now I am happy. The fire and the devils left me long ago and now I am a happy little imbecile. I go to the doctor and take my pills and go to Church and live with my family and am always happy. It is a quiet happiness, but often when I am walking, and I do not go walking enough, I look up to the sky or see a bird flying, flittering here or there or calling, and I want to cry out in joy. For beauty moves my heart to joy. To see the sun or the moon or stars, and for some reason mostly the clouds in the sky . . . In the Church I do not cry out, but I am quiet. I love to pray before Jesus.

I wish I could be a little brother and live by a Church as some kind of monk or hermit. But they would not take me because of my feeble-mindedness and my age, at least not to the places that I would prefer, the more popular ancient ones. But then one would have to worry about other people who may be wicked and have power over me. I love my parents but they do not make me do bad things even though they do not believe as I do, as a lunatic hermit.

I don't know. I am looking at my little picture of Gemma. It fills my heart with a quiet joy. To meet her one day and for that day to last forever in eternal happiness. As happy as I would be to meet Gemma, I can not even imagine the happiness I would get from being with the good God. I do not know. Yes I was in love with a girl once upon a time. I was in love with a girl. But now I am broken and I will never achieve any of the goals or fantasies I had about my life. I will never be rich or even famous, or even have a normal life with a wife and children (and some say that such a life is not normal anymore and grieve for it). But I believe I have found God. And even if it is a delusion I am happy. I hope it never ends. My life is happy now.

I don't know what is my favorite book. I love praying the Little Office. And I loved it so much I will be acquiring another version to see which one I like better. And I love my little book about the Desert Fathers. And I love my Life of Gemma and my Life of the Cure of Ars. And I have the little devotional book with the different versions of The Way of the Cross. I would have to vote for the Little Office as I use it the most. But I do not need any books, as I have my rosary and can make ejaculations even though I love praying the Office. I should go on more walks, I think. I should try to when winter ends. I have extra time and it would be better using it to walk around the neighborhood and looking at the flowers and the birds, than sitting in the house and drinking coffee and looking at the computer. In the cold one wants to stay inside. But soon it will be warm and I will greet the warm weather by walking more. I can go to Church but also go on walks before and after I say my prayers. Only because seeing the world and the sky makes me happy. And when I am happy I love God more.

Is it better to suffer or to love? My life now is happy. I don't have enough friends though. I have Julian. He always calls me. I want to visit him in the next two weeks or so. It seems his sisters are getting evicted so he can not move in with him so he will be stuck in the nursing home for now. A shame. It would have been six blocks from my house and really close to the diner where I would have brought him so we could talk and eat together.

I remember hearing that when people have free time, they fall apart and become self-destructive. Most men cannot handle much leisure. They become alcoholics or drug addicts or sex addicts. I am able to live. I have some devotions to keep my time occupied. I get along well enough without any self-destructive addictions. I do drink a lot of coffee though.

I am not able to think. It is good sometimes because I do not have aggressive evil thoughts that I obsess over, but I also do not have good thoughts. By unable to think, I mean on a higher level. I do have menial thoughts. But I cannot imagine or think abstractly. That part of me is broken. I cannot make visions arise in my mind like I used to be able to. But my life is a happy life. For now. Perhaps in the future bad things will happen to me. But for now my life is a happy life.

So I am looking forward to seeing my brother if he comes up on Thursday. He was trying to get me to become a stock market speculator. I thought that was a strange idea. He thinks that because I have free time, I could read all kinds of books, become a genius and make millions of dollars in the stock market. I was not interested and don't think that would be likely if I was interested. But I love my brother and want to see him. Hopefully tomorrow.

Lepanto Conference

https://rorate-caeli.blogspot.com/2020/01/events-third-annual-lepanto-conference.html

I might go to this. I have never been to anything like it in my life. I told some people at Church about it and I did not get an answer if any of them were going. But perhaps if I went I could meet new people. And a Latin Mass said by a Cardinal (and one of the more conservative ones) though Julian would probably say he is not even a real priest. Would there be nice people there? I don't know, but I am kind of a hermit with few friends. I don't have many events in my life (but going to Church for the Latin Mass is wonderful and the best part of my week). And this is an event with going to Church so it may be wonderful. I will tell people about it on Sunday and see if anyone wants to go. I have never been to an ecumenical meeting among traditionalists, though. Would they consider me a schismatic and shun me? Or maybe this event is made for rich people, though the suggested donation is only ten dollars. Last year seven hundred people came for the Mass. There will be good singing as it will be the highest of all the high Masses I have ever attended. As a Cardinal, only the Mass of a Pope would be higher and there haven't been any Latin Masses by Popes since the Novus Ordo replaced the Old Mass fifty years ago. Too bad I don't have a date to bring as I am always alone.

Saint Vitalius

I found out about this desert monk via Catholic Twitter. Someone asked if this was a true story, or if it was made up by Dostoyevsky. I have another monk to venerate now, with one of my favorite stories.

https://www.oca.org/saints/lives/2016/04/22/101183-venerable-vitalius-of-gaza

Venerable Vitalius of Gaza

Saint Vitalius, a monk of the monastery of Saint Seridus, arrived in Alexandria when Saint John the Merciful (November 12) was Patriarch of Alexandria.

When he was sixty years old, undertook an extraordinary task: he wrote down from memory the names of all the prostitutes of Alexandria and he began to pray for them. He worked from morning to evening, earning twelve copper coins each day. In the evening the saint bought a single bean, which he ate after sunset. Then he would give the rest of the money to one of the harlots, whom he visited at night and said, “I beg you, take this money and do not sin with anyone tonight.” Then he stayed with the harlot in her room. While she slept, the Elder spent the whole night at prayer, reading the Psalms, and quietly left in the morning.

He did this each day, visiting all the harlots in turn, and he made them promise to keep the purpose of his visit secret. The people of Alexandria, not knowing the truth, became indignant over the the monk’s behavior, and they reviled him. However, he meekly endured their scorn, and he only asked that they not judge others.

The holy prayers of Saint Vitalius saved many fallen women. Some of them went to a monastery, others got married, and others found respectable work. But they were forbidden to tell anyone the reason why they had changed their life, and thereby stop the abuse heaped upon Saint Vitalius. They were bound by an oath they had made to the saint. When one of the women began to break her oath and stood up to defend the saint, she fell into a demonic frenzy. After this, the people of Alexandria had no doubt concerning the sinfulness of the monk.

Certain of the clergy, scandalized by the behavior of Saint Vitalius, reported him to the holy Patriarch John the Merciful. But the Patriarch did not believe the informers and he said, “Cease to judge, especially monks. Don’t you know what happened at the First Council of Nicea? Some of the bishops and the clergy brought letters of denunciation against each other to the emperor Saint Constantine the Great (May 21). He commanded that a burning candle be brought, and not even reading the letters, he burned them and said, ‘If I had seen with my own eyes a bishop sinning, or a priest, or a monk, then I would have veiled such with his garb, so that no one might see his sin.’” Thus the wise hierarch shamed the calumniators.

Saint Vitalius continued on with his difficult exploit: appearing himself before people under the guise of a sinner and a prodigal, he led the prodigal to repentance.

One time, emerging from an house of ill repute, the monk encountered a young man going there -- a prodigal fellow, who with an insult struck him on the cheek and cried out, that the monk was a disgrace to the Name of Christ. The monk answered him: “Believe me, that after me, humble man that I be, thou also shalt receive such a blow on the cheek, that will have all Alexandria thronging to thine cry”.

A certain while afterwards Saint Vitalius settled into a small cell and in it at night he died. At that very hour a terrifying demon appeared before the youth who had struck the saint, and the demon struck the youth on the cheek and cried out: “Here is a knock from Saint Vitalius.” The youth went into a demonic madness. In a frenzy he thrashed about on the ground, tore the clothing from himself and howled so loudly, that a multitude of people gathered.

When the youth finally came to his senses after several hours, he then rushed off to the cell of the monk, calling out: “Have mercy on me, O servant of God, for I have sinned against thee.” At the door of the cell he came fully to his senses and he told those gathered there about his former encounter with Saint Vitalius. Then the youth knocked on the door of the cell, but he received no answer. When they broke in the door, they then saw that the monk was dead, on his knees before an icon. In his hand was a scroll with the words: “Men of Alexandria, judge not beforehand, til cometh the Lord, the Righteous Judge”.

At this moment there came up the demon-possessed woman, punished by the monk for wanting to violate the secret of his exploit. Having touched the body of the saint, she was healed and told the people about everything that had happened with her.

When the women who had been saved by Saint Vitalius learned about his death, they gathered together and told everyone about the virtues and mercy of the saint.

Saint John the Merciful also rejoiced, in that he had not believed the calumniators, and that a righteous man had not been condemned. And then together with the throng of repentant women, converted by Saint Vitalius, the holy Patriarch solemnly conveyed his remains throughout all the city and gave them reverent burial. And from that time many of the Alexandrian people made themselves a promise to judge no one.