Bleeding From The Next

The days are bleeding from one to the next. The girl is still here. And my brother.

I really miss going to Church. I want to go to Holy Innocents for Eucharistic Adoration and prayer but mom and dad don't want me going on to the subway.

I pray at home in my basement, my old and current bedroom. I do not have my Mother of Sorrows by El Greco or my Florentine Crucifix with the Apostles. Now the girl has them. I wonder if she ever looks at them. They are blessed. The Crucifix by my SSPX priest and the Blessed Mother by the local Bishop. When I gave it to him to bless he said "El Greco."

I try to pray a lot. Usually kneeling, sometimes sitting. Sometimes speaking out loud, sometimes mouthing the words. When I wake up, at noon, at three, at six, at night, before bed. On my first walk. The Little Office, the Rosary, short morning and night prayers and the Office of the Dead for an old friend. It is good. I probably pray for a little while and then live.

I have little to do other than my prayers. I go to stores when we need food. I go on my walks. I read a few Catholic websites and look at Instagram. While I pray I often look at pictures of Gemma. I do not have many friends. Some of my Church friends send me text messages or call me on the phone.

I am happy with my life, but I worry about the world's salvation. I like to pray but nobody prays with me. I hope I have peace until I die, hopefully soon, or if not soon, I hope to have peace until the time comes. I am content.

Since the corona virus descended upon us I have been drinking beer. Once or twice a week. I do not think it is a sin because I do not drink too much. But it calms my nerves. I am a weak sinner. Even the monks drank wine under saint Benedict.

One thing I often think about is my strange delusion. The delusion of seeing sin in peoples' faces. That sinfulness can be discerned by looking at people. I cannot judge it. But it haunts me. Probably it is not true, but just most people are ugly. Who knows. I think I look good but who am I to judge. Maybe just most people look like devils. But to think of it. Why do most animals look beautiful, at all times and conditions, but most people look ugly? Why else, except that only humans can sin, and most humans are wicked, the fewness of the saved. We are created by the same God as animals. I have never seen an ugly mourning dove but most of the humans I see are ugly other than innocent children. But then one can think of the ugly animals, like water bugs and cockroaches, as not all animals are beautiful.

Someone was complaining about the lack of charity of supposed Catholics. I know, we argue and complain like sinners. What am I to do? I hope I am not uncharitable, but for sure, I probably am. I try to be good and justified, but the fault is mine, is mine, is mine.

I say often, "Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa" though I wonder if everyone is trying to catch me in a snare. To say to me "Aha! Aha! You are a hypocrite! Aha!"

To think of things. Often I think everyone has sold his soul to the devil, who is not actively trying to be good. In their hearts, if not in their heads. Either me or the devil or God, and mostly me or the devil.

I really like my little prayer cards with pictures of Gemma. The best purchase I have made, even better than my Little Office. I can look at them and see my beautiful girl and the mark of the Crucifixion forever and ever.

I do want to be an honest man. But how can I abide in this world? In this world?

I do not hate myself, for God made me. I hate my sins, but I have been trying to be good for a while. I know my try is not good enough. But I am not despairing. My try. I hope to give my God my tithe and hope it is enough on the last day, when the good God judges the world by fire, the world by fire.