Silly Thoughts

Her biography says that she rarely bathed and never used soap but always had a nice fragrance coming from her body. A thought that everything bad that comes from us is not because of nature but because of sin. If one has a strong body odor it is because one is a sinner. The reason teenagers have a lot of acne is because at that time the youth are introduced into the world of sexual sins after their innocent childhood. How far does it go?

There is a man who is a hermit who worships at the shrine of St. Francis in Assissi. He went to Mass often and received the sacraments and by all accounts he was a good holy man. He was old but looked good and had smooth skin. Reading about him, someone commented on how young he looked even though he was in his late seventies and the response was that right worship does marvels for the body and the immune system. I look at pictures of the Little Flower while in her convent, in her youth, before her fatal illness, and she looked like a beautiful young marshmallow. She looked so pure. And so do people who are good.

I think of the animals and how when they go poop they do not need toilet paper but it comes out clean. It should be the same for good people. Only sin leads to uncleanness and rottenness. A pure man would not have pimples, because a spoiled face is a punishment for sin. He should always look pure and clean unless the Lord has chosen him for chastisements like holy Job.

But I am being silly. None of this is true, just ridiculous thoughts I am having because I am crazy.

For what it's worth. But humans are such sinful creatures, would that we are pure and beautiful as the paintings of Fra Angelica and worthy of the grace of God, a grace which we all need and some of us desire. I was looking at pictures. People are so ugly. Devils or statues. People have no soul in their eyes. Their eyes are black holes.

But I am a proud man. I think highly of myself. I think I am a nice man and that God is somewhat happy with me and that I have grace and the Holy Spirit is living in my soul. I wish I could go to Church more. My skin is nice and soft. I have peace and am happy with the world. I look at pictures. Of her, who I love.

On Monday my therapist will be calling and I hope my friend Julian calls me and maybe some of my other friends. I do not know a lot of people. I know God. I know Him. And He is above all people. I have her. I love her and pray for her but I am nothing to her. But I love her.

In eternity all the bad in this world will be made up for, if you are numbered among the lambs. I am not afraid of death, I told my brother today. But the world is terrifying. I think of her a lot. And my Gemma. There is a lull in my days between 4 PM and 6 PM where I have nothing to do. The rest of my day is good and pure. My pandemic routine.

My brother wants me to become a stock investor. I could study and learn how to invest and become rich off of my tiny disability checks. For what it's worth. I love her but am nothing to her. But I love Gemma and I know she loves me. All the love I have for her is paid back a thousand times. My sweet love.

Like I said before, I am happy with my investment in a selection of holy cards of Gemma with third class relics in them. The pictures are pretty, because her soul was pure and pure souls are beautiful to look at. She was a little angel. I do not know anyone alive who was like her but the thought of her makes me happy. I hope to one day meet her in heaven. I believe in heaven. Life is nothing. I want to die soon.

Deja Vu

As I was walking, I passed a house with a beautiful garden. Then on the next block I saw a house with morning glories out front and I saw them. Then I walked to the next block and it was the block before once again with the same flowers, the same houses and the same everything. Deja vu? Once again as it was as it ever shall be. The devil is playing tricks on me. So I laughed at the devil and walked forward to the next block and it was different (106th ST) and then I finished my morning walk and went back on to my own home. The snare was broken, I was delivered by the hands of the Lord. When I go to meetings they try to tell me that every meeting is the same. As Nietzche believed, we are in a trap of eternal sameness. One lives and dies an infinite number of times and every lifetime is identical. Nothing ever changes. But we know this is false and we have one life to live and have free will and God is always watching us and protecting us.

Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.
Protect us from the snares of the enemy.

Protect us from deja vu.
"a glitch in the matrix?" I must have watched that movie a dozen times, rarely from the beginning. I preferred Kung Fu Hustle.
From the album Deja Vu. "Helpless". "Blue, blue windows behind the stars / Yellow moon's on the rise" written by Neil Young of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young.

Beware, children, the song is a snare: