Custodian of Tradition

 So I went to Church today for the first time since the end of the world. The world ended on the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Friday. Francis abrogated the Latin Mass. Sort of. It seems it will be allowed on a small scale for a while, but hopefully the fools who like it will die out and then there will be nothing but the glory of the Novus Ordo. Someone was saying that trads are stupid and idolize the Latin Mass. But I say those people do not have a religion. They just slavishly obey the pope's orders with no religion. No belief. No liturgy, No cosmology. No morality. Just do what the Pope says. That is all. I want to follow Christ, not the demon Francis. Like the people say that you can know nothing for yourself, except to slavishly follow the magisterium. Like someone on Suscipe Domine, who also contradictorilly claims to admire the Jansenists. But he is an obvious shill. Though an amusing one. Even St. Paul told people to hold to tradition and if anyone, even an angel from heaven, were to say otherwise, let him be anathema. Even demon Francis.

People say that after Vatican I and up until Vatican II, the laity came to worship the Pope and the priests. Whatever the Pope said was from God and whatever the priest said was from God. They were infallible. Now we see the failure of this idea. We have clergy with no faith who are Communists and sodomites who hate God and his holy Church. As one person said, if my priest said I could cheat on my wife, I could cheat on her without sin. As John Zmirak said a while ago on twitter, his priest would hold a bingo party and would give everyone a bologna sandwich but it was a Friday. So he would say, don't worry, I give you all a dispensation, you can eat meat today without sin. 

I go to an SSPX Mass. So we do not obey. When the Novus Ordo Mass came out, Lefebvre said, "Well, we'll keep saying the Old Mass, right?" Indeed. Father Sulzen gave a sermon where he talked about the Moto Proprio, and said we will keep the faith, and we will. Nobody cares, but I do. I hate the Novus Ordo and hope it dies. Even someone like Matt Walsh who works for Ben Shapiro, was talking about how they have this Latin Mass that all the young people love and really believe in, while the Novus Ordo is only attended by lackluster boomers. Wouldn't the Pope like to go with what the hopeful enthusiastic young people care for? Of course not. They hate God and his holy Mass. I hope people do not lose faith and come to the SSPX and things go well.

I think things will get serious. They will end the diocesan Latin Masses and all the trads will go to the SSPX or the sedevacantists with no choice (other than going to the Novus Ordo or the Eastern Rites.) And when everyone is in the SSPX, the Pope devil will excommunicate the SSPX and all who go to their Masses. And the shills will talk about how we have to obey the pope, and how if one follows the Pope it is impossible to lose the faith or salvation, and to still go to the Latin Mass is an act of disobedience. Go to hell. I would much rather live with Blaise Pascal than with people like him. 

So My Life Is Happy Now . . .

So My Life Is Happy Now. I am being bad today. I am having some beer. For the quarantine, to relieve stress I am indulging in alcohol once or twice a week. It is a preventative measure. I have been happy. You know how my life has been. I have my prayers and my walks and dinner and then to bed. I give a tithe of my time to the good God. Since I got out of the hospital in late July I have been pious for me. And very happy. I am happy for my family. But life is frightening. I worry that the devil has got me. That my soul is lost because of my sins. That I have no hope. But they say to "Never despair of God's Mercy." Witchcraft. But I never signed anything in my blood. Mrs. Greenblood was her name.

I was in the car with my father and "Like a Rolling Stone" was playing and when he squealed out "As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes And say do you want to make a deal" and I thought that was Dylan singing about how he sold his soul to the devil for fame and fortune and I wondered if my fate was the same as Dylan's. I do believe that most people who are famous have made deals with the devil. That is the price you pay to make it big. Even to make it little. I have made nothing. My life is very simple for American standards, though it is above the level of the homeless man. I have no resources, but no desires. So for all it is I am content. Mrs. Greenblood. Even the homeless man can look up at the sky, listen to the songbirds, and watch the seagulls, and the bees and the butterflies are coming soon. Such beauty is given to all, even in the big city. Acetylene. To cast oneself into the sea to drown at twelve noon on one's thirty-third birthday.

I can understand suicide. If one thinks one is damned and cannot stop sinning. If one is in despair, then suicide will end the length of ones' sins. So that if one ends it the eternal suffering will be less than if one lived a full length of days and continued to sin. But to face that eternity. Even if it would be better to end it than to live. A few years of alcoholism seem better than facing hell just right now even if overall the suffering would be far less.

There must be a lot of people in despair. I wonder. I fear I am among them, but I like piety and thinking about God. Is that all a ruse? Am I among the damned as well? As I feared when listening to Dylan's song? I have little attachment to sin. I do not lust. I could give up the little pleasure of a bit of beer if I had to and I do not drink to drunkenness. I am content. If I do go to hell, I want to love God a little now before I am damned and have a little happiness in my piety for a while. I have no doubts, thought I wrote about doubts in my stories. Everything is real and Jesus lives. Angels and demons. And those who have made a deal. But one can repent. I guess a lot of people believe but hate God so much that they do not want to repent. They would rather be with the devil and suffer than love God in heaven and be happy. The witches. Am I a witch then? My brother once said to his friend "we ruled the world". I don't want to rule the world. I only want to be one of Gemma's thousand friends in heaven. And perhaps know the good God. I cannot imagine that. I can imagine being friends with a beautiful girl.

The most beautiful living girl alive who I know is the beautiful Cecilia. I speak about how most people who I see look ugly as sin, but Cecilia looks beautiful as innocence. Remember how my delusion and the first thing that came to me as part of my craziness was the thought that I could see people's sin and that everyone was a horrible sinner. I hope she finds a good husband and lives a happy life and goes to heaven when she dies. And then there is the lovely Helena who plays the organ. I miss going to Church. It has been a month or so. I told Terry about my little devotion. The one I pray for me and my two friends who I love. The Hail Marys. Just a short post. God Bless You. I may purchase an Icon of St. Mary of Egypt to pray before. She is an important saint to me. Babylon.

Illness

So people are taking this Corona virus seriously. I just hope they do not close the Churches and I get to go to Benediction and to Mass like I usually do. My mother told me to go to the dollar store and buy six rolls of toilet paper. And she bought some anti-bacterial soap. That is the extent of our preparation.

This is the first time in my life where there has been an illness scare that I noticed. They are cancelling public events in many places and even sporting events that would have made billions of dollars such as the NCAA tournament. None of the other scares in my lifetime have caused such cancellations.

So I just hope they don't close the Churches. I could go without Mass for a few months if need be. And I feel OK with God so I do not have an urgent need to go to confession. But I would rather things go on as normal and the routine of my hidden life goes on as it has been going since the end of July.

I got my New Roman Missal in the mail today. Soon it will go on to the book shelf. It is not for use but to have. It is a 1945 Missal. I looked at some of the prayers. The most noticeable prayer change is the Good Friday prayer for the Jews. It has the "perfidis". I already had a 1962 Missal with the modern Holy Week that was prayed for only a few years so I wanted a Missal with the older Holy Week also. The missal seems good, however there seems to be a flaw. There is no real table of contents in the beginning of the book. There is a short one near the end of a book and an Index, but I think a two thousand page book could use a real table of contents. But it seems good and I am happy. It is funny because the reason I chose the Lasance Missal is because in the reviews I read of the Saint Andrew Daily Missal, there was the complaint that there was no table of contents. That helped persuade me to get the Lasance one instead only to be faced with the same problem. But it is a beautiful book.

My therapist told me I had to start spending money now that I get disability. It is not much money, but the way my life is I have been unable so far this year, to spend all of my money in any month, without saving money or giving it away. I spend so little money and my parents do not charge me rent. So lately I have just been giving generously at Church, and or giving money to my family. I have been buying some things on amazon. But my only major expense is going to Church. subway fare, donation, and coffee and food with the people after Mass.

But I am a frugal person. I do not want anything. I am content without buying things. So I will just help out my family.

Tonight the Bishop said the Benediction. He had us pray for protection from the corona virus. I think sometimes that he state of one's soul can be seen by looking at one's face. The bishop looks like a good man. Even though he is Novus Ordo, he has a good look about him. He is from Cuba.

So far nothing strange has happened because of the virus. The supermarkets are not out of food. The pizza store had pizza for us today. Mom went shopping at Michael's and said there was nobody in the store. But the parking lot was full because everyone was going to Trader Joe's. Life is still normal. Except that New York City made it illegal for stores to give you plastic shopping bags. You can get paper bags but you have to pay for them. They cost 5 cents. Which I think is a bargain. I remember years ago people said we should stop using paper bags because they killed trees to make them, so we should only use plastic bags. Now everyone says we should not use plastic bags because they get thrown away and do not decompose so they are bad for the environment. And now they have us using paper bags again, which I prefer anyway and am willing to spend a nickel for. But now we get to use some of those reusable cloth bags we have acquired over the years. I think people should do that as the ideal solution. Things that get used one time and then thrown away are not a good idea.

I am stealing a quote from a book I once read that was on the Index of Forbidden Books '"I did nothing today." --What? Did you not live? That is not only the most fundamental but the most illustrious of your occupations.' It is from Montaigne. Such is my life. I do nothing. But I am happy. I live and am happy. I am not a hero. Robert introduced me to the idea of being an "outsider artist." So I thought to myself, "yes, that is what I would like to be, an outsider, though I am not much of an artist". So I thought of my self, that I am "aspiring to be an unknown outsider." That fits. I am one of those people who thinks the modern world is insane. I mean it is mainstream now and socially approved for a man to cut off his penis and call himself a woman. And if one says, no, he is still a man and not a woman, that person is ostracized and will lose his family, his friends, and his employment. I do wonder about such people, how do they have sex? And if it is somehow possible for them to have sex, could they enjoy it as much as they could if their genitals were not mutilated. I mean I have at times thought what it would be like to be a woman and if perhaps I would be happier, but that was as far as it went.

But I live. That is all I do. I do think one can be an important person without doing much. I live well and am happy. I am a part of a family. I go to Church. I pray. I hope to go to heaven one day. I am not much interested in the world. I hope to have peace and to be able to survive until my death, hopefully of natural causes. But I do not long for money or for riches, beyond basic sustenance. If I were not crazy I would want to be a monk, but I am broken and am too old now so I let it be. I have peace. I am content with life. I do nothing, but I live, and life is what is important. To give one's life to God. Or to give him a tithe, and be grateful for the balance. So be it. So be it.

The Bishop said Benediction tonight. He looks like a good man. As traditionalists we look at the Novus Ordo Bishops and think they are not good, but I like our Bishop, the pastor of my local parish. He has never offended me. There is one Bishop in particular, who I like. Like my Bishop, he is also an auxiliary. The world famous Bishop Athanasius Schneider. He looks like a good man to me. I look at him and think he is kind, and good. He is not a pervert. He is pious and can be trusted. I hope he is a good man and has a good heart and loves God.

I love God. It sounds like pious talk, but I love God. But God is far away. Even in the Incarnate form of Jesus Christ. He is Our Creator and he is perfect and not a sinner. Even Mary, who is a creature, is not a sinner. So she is far away. But the saints who are creatures and who are sinners. They are my friends. My Gemma who I love a lot. I feel my love for her as a girl and as a sinner far more than I feel my love for God. But I love her because of God and I love God in her. So all my love for her is an act of praise for the God who created her. She is not an idol, but a creature beloved of the good God. Pious babbling.

I am always happy lately in my time of peace. The clouds, the birds, the stars, the moon, the sun. Mostly Jesus in the tabernacle. Jesus in the monstrance like today. Friday is almost as good a day as Sunday because I can visit Jesus in the monstrance several times a day and be blessed by him before I go to bed. It is good to look at Jesus.

I do not know if I can communicate my peace and happiness to other people by writing. Perhaps if things went bad I would be bitter. Nobody hurts me so I am happy. If I was handed over to the devil like Job, perhaps then I would scratch my boils and be miserable. I would cry out to God, but I hope I would not curse Him. In my time of despair when the devils tormented me for so long, I did not curse God. I hope I do not curse Him in the future. In this world of pain.

I do not feel as if I have a shepherd other than Jesus. That must be dangerous. I love God, but I do not have a leader who tells me what to think and what to believe. This is a problem in the strange world of traditional Catholicism, where we believe the leaders have lost the faith for the most part and cannot be trusted. I do not worry much. I try to believe in my own way and love.

I think the most important thing is to believe. And then to love. I try to believe and I try to love.

I Am Grateful

I am grateful. I am grateful for my family I have, and who take care of me. They let me live with them without paying rent, though I share my meager stipend with them when there is a need. If I were forced to survive on my own, I fear I would end up in the street. But they let me live with them.

My life is simple. I am crazy and I cannot think straight. I cannot remember things and I am always losing things. So I am useless. I can not work. I get a little disability check because the doctors determined that I was a bad case. It is good because it allows me to go to Church, give a little tithe and go out for coffee after Mass with my friends without begging my parents for money.

This is my life, which I am grateful for. I try to live a silent life. I avoid television and movies and the radio for the most part. I like peace and quiet. I do not usually get bored. I like to go to Church to sit before Jesus. And pray. The Church is a block and a half from my house and Jesus is there so I can go visit Him like a good friend. He looks at me from the tabernacle. I go at least once a day, though ideally I would go three times. Once at noon, once at three, and once at six. I say my prayers. Lately I have been trying to pray from my prayer book. In my free time, I do use the computer I am typing on. I think I use it too much, though I do not do anything bad on it. It is an attachment to the world. On Thursdays in the mid-day I walk to the neighboring Church for Benediction. I always see the grackles on my walk there, south of the avenue. I saw them again today. And at night I make my little holy hour and look at pictures of Gemma crucified. On Fridays they have Eucharistic Adoration and Benediction at my local parish so I go there during the day and at night for the blessing. And Sunday is the best day. Now that Mass is in the evening, I go a little early, and listen to Vespers at the indult parish, before going to our little upper room for our Low Mass. There is music now because of the Lovely Helena. And afterwards we talk of things in the Church and in the world and about our lives.

I have a happy life. But my parents are getting older. They will not live forever. Without them life would be difficult. So I am grateful for the time I have with them. My father hurt his knee this week so I have been helping him. He can barely walk. Today he got a cortisone shot and an x-ray. I am happier than I have ever been, since the last time I got out of the hospital in late July. Though I am also alone. My parents do not go to Church with me. They must think I am strange going to Church all the time. And I have no girlfriend or wife. But I do not feel lonely on this account like I used to. I can not explain why. Like when I was a child, I do not need a woman in my life to be happy. The need for a woman is a sign of a fall. It is better to be happy alone, than to have your happiness rely on the whims of a woman. To be able to be happy alone, but still have a woman, is another state. I have never been in that state. I do not worry about it, though, because of my condition it is unlikely to ever happen. I am like a nice young man with down syndrome. Crippled, alone, but happy. I wish I were as innocent as they are.

I imagine I would be happier with a girlfriend or a wife, but I do not grieve it. I still love women and am entranced when I see them walking around, if they are beautiful, or modest. But immodesty is ugly to me and makes me happy I am alone rather than with such a woman. The women at Church dress nicely and decently so it is good to see them, even though I feel like they are above me because of my condition.

I am grateful for God because I am happy. I feel like he is taking care of me. And I feel he has forgiven me for the sins of my youth. So many sins. It was difficult and painful but I feel the suffering had a purpose. But now I have peace. Trouble may come again, but now is a happy time for me. I feel as if I have grace. I have joy. I want to sing and I do to myself when I go out walking.

I do not have a wife, but I have a heavenly mother and the saints, including my favorite, my poor poor Gemma. If I go to heaven one day I will be one of her friends there. They keep me company and are good friends to me when I am alone. I have my Church friends and Julian who I visit and get Father to visit with the Blessed Sacrament.

So my life is happy. For now. As long as my parents are able to help me. It would be good if I die before they do. I am not afraid of death. If I was right with God I would be happy to die. Get this mortal life done with so the real life can begin. But then I may be damned. I fear that less now than I used to. So I am very grateful.

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.

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. 

Hopeless

On the idea that some people are already damned, but still go on living. They are waiting for death with nothing ahead of them but waiting for eternal hell. Are there some people who have pushed God too far and are already damned but are still yet living? Something I think about. What if I am among them. What exactly is the unforgivable sin that Jesus talks about? Have I committed this sin? It is not quiet clear. Is saying something unkind about the third person of the Blessed Trinity an unforgivable offense? Looking back on my life, have I done that? I cannot remember. Perhaps once when I was drunk or on drugs? But others say that this blasphemy that is unforgivable is merely final impenitence and that there is no sin that can not be forgiven if one is penitent. But then there is that dreaded sermon of the Cure of Ars where he says that some sinners have pushed God too far and even if they come back to God they are forsaken by Him and God does not listen to their cries. He gives Voltaire as an example. He called for a priest and even went to confession and as he was dying the last few hours of his life were spent begging God for forgiveness, but St John Vianney tells us that his sorrow was in vain. He had pushed God too far and was damned. Could I be among those so doomed? Are my prayers and piety in vain?

I think sometimes on that matter when I interact with other people. I know one man who does not have hope and lives in despair and I wonder if he is right to do so and if I am only fooling myself with hope which will only lead to greater disappointment. It does not hurt as it makes me happy, but what if it were more fitting to hate God for forsaking me?

Has God forsaken you? I am a happy person lately. But I am also so very alone. Julian is alone. My best friend. He is in a home and can not see. But I am alone. I am older now and I have no wife and no means to support one and I have no friends so I get lonely. When I was younger I knew what it was like to be with a woman and it is normal to be married. But I have to face the fact that I am alone, will remain alone, and then I will die and nobody will go to my funeral. Maybe I could meet some crazy girl on disability and we could get married and live together. I know that will never happen. But if you know anyone you think would be good for me let me know. But I did know a couple like that so if it could happen like that maybe it could happen for me. No, I am alone. I am happy. My life is not difficult now. And on Monday I get to go to therapy to talk. Loneliness. Go to Church, therapy. I do not slave away, but my mind does not work. Life is good for me now because I have my family. I love my family, except that they watch television. I hate television.

Be good and be happy. It was nice going to Church today. Like every Thursday there were the grackles. Cackling. It is almost time for my holy hour, my favorite prayer. In peace until then.

On Suicide

Confiteor Deo omnipotenti, beatae Mariae semper Virgini, beato Michaeli Archangelo, beato Joanni Baptistae, sanctis Apostolis Petro and Paulo, et omnibus Sanctis, quia peccavi nimis cogitatione verbo and opere, mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. Ideo precor beatam Mariam semper Virginem, beatum Michaelen Archangelum, beatum Joannam Baptistam, sanctos Apostolos Petrum et Paulum, et omnes Sanctos, orare pro me ad Dominum Deum nostrum.

Miseratur nostri omnipotens Deus, et dimissis peccatis nostris, perducat nos ad vitam aeternam. Amen.

Indulgentiam, absolutionem, et remissionem peccatorum nostrorum, tribuat nobis omnipotens et misericors Dominus. Amen.

I confess to almighty God, to blessed Mary ever Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and to all the Saints, that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word, and deed, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault. Therefore I beseech blessed Mary ever Virgin, blessed Michael the Archangel, blessed John the Baptist, the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and all the Saints, to pray to the Lord our God for me.

May the almighty and merciful God have mercy upon us, forgive us our sins, and bring us unto life everlasting. Amen.

May the almighty and merciful Lord grant us pardon, absolution, and remission of our sins. Amen.

In my life I only have a few friends now. I count as friends only among the people who I know from Church, (not because they share the same religion, but because I don't really know many people other than Church friends, except neighbor acquaintances and doctors and fellow crazy patients). And of those only one is a true friend and that is Julian. Julian is like a Russian Old believer, only Catholic. I love him dearly. You see he went blind and cannot see. So I visit him in the nursing home where he lives and bring him food. And he likes to pray so we pray the Saint Michael chaplet. There are also other friends from Church, but Julian is the closest. Next is angry Tom and Cora who moved far away but calls me at least once a month and sends me text messages asking me to pray for her. So I have only one real friend.

But there are other people who I love dearly. You see I have heard speak of suicide among two people who I love. I do not know what to say about that. Neither of these people believe what I believe. I hope they do not go through with it. One is more serious than the other. One mentioned it as a reality already attempted but failed with the likelihood of attempting it again. The other mentioned it more like some beautiful ideal, but not a reality to be chosen immediately.

I am not a movie expert. But the most beautifully filmed movie that in my eyes (of the few that I know) was a late silent film called Tabu, the last film directed by Murnau. It was gorgeous. At the end a man swims into the ocean as far as he is able until his strength fails him and he falls beneath the waves and drowns.

Nobody cares what I write and I do not think the person I am thinking of will ever read this. But what must one think of suicide? I do not know what the person believes. Whether atheist, or satanist, or agnostic. What can I say?

To my mind there is nothing worse that one can do than suicide. Not because it is the worst sin, but because it is one's last act. To end one's life with mortal sin means hell for there is no chance for repentance. I don't know if they believe this. I do not know if they care about me or anything or even know that there is a crazy person far away who loves them and would be heartbroken if they did it or if they care. They already know of friends and family who would be sadder so I am not that important. And the pain that is near and deep is more powerful than the pain of another who may know thee and care. The demon that is gripping one seems stronger than the angel that is far away.

I have been through suffering. Everyone suffers. It is as if it is the meaning of life after the fall. I imagine the devils have a lot to do with suicide. I imagine they grab into souls in despair and sadness and tempt them to off themselves, and when they succeed they drag their souls to hell and gleefully, in their agony, can they sense glee? Yes, glee is a wicked thing. Drag them down forever and forever. It must take a lot of egging on. It is something that I not considered even in my darkest moments. I stopped at black-out drunkenness until I could no longer remember. Perhaps I am innocent. And then when I was tormented by my demons for so long I believed so suicide was not an option so I stopped at frantic prayer in my agony. I have my own demons. Even when I was in the hospital lately the priest thought I was possessed and prayed over me prayers of exorcism and now I am at peace so perhaps they worked. My whole psychosis is caked in religious themes of angels and demons and has been since its beginning.

But if someone I loved, and the person is someone I love but am not close to at all so I cannot just call them on the phone like a good friend, were to commit suicide? My relationship to her is like a person who likes an actress he sees in the movies and thinks about her often. I don't want to think of it or have it happen. But it is out of my hands. I hope it is just bluster and not a serious threat. If it happened, then when I thought of this person I would have to think, she is in hell. And if I am saved I will never meet her again and if I am damned I will be with her forever, but I will no longer love her but would hate her forever. Sometimes in one's romantic moments one might have thought of some girl in one's lust and have said to oneself "when I am in hell, I want to be by her side" but if it ever happens one will regret ever having thought of it.

I am just hoping it does not happen. I have no ears who listen to these words but I do pray. Hopefully I am misunderstanding things and nothing bad is really happening (except to the animals in factory farms).

It is a sensible thing to do. If one is in pain and that pain is unbearable, one thinks one can end that pain by an overdose or a noose or even a trigger. But what if it is not the end of the pain but merely the beginning of the real pain, the pain that never ends?

I don't know. I feel that most people these days must be tormented by the demons. I am at peace. Now. The demons are not bothering me now. I wish that I could take on some of the demons that are hurting other people to myself so that they could have some peace. Or have them go away because of prayers. I don't know. I would take a little suffering to ease another person's pain. I could bear a little more than I have now. Are we in this world together?

Often I pensee that we are in hell and we are all damned and that there is no hope for us and this life will go on forever and never end. Perhaps we will die in the end only to be born again in a new hell and the suffering will continue forever. However one might think this world is not all that bad for being hell. A good point. Or I can think that I do not remember my particular judgment by Jesus so I cannot be in hell. But perhaps when one is born into hell one forgets their "birth" as one forgets the beginning of one's life in the world. Often I think that I am already damned but have gone on living. As if my sins are unforgivable and there is no more mercy available and that everyone else is in the same boat so we are all merely waiting for the inevitable damnation (one must say that there was a private revelation where the Virgin lamented that if men continue to go in in sin there will reach a time where there will no longer be any pardon from God. Perhaps we have reached that time. I know I have played my part). "Some drink, some become sex addicts, and some go on hoping." Others kill themselves with this thought: "Yes, it is a sin and I will be punished, but it will end my life and thus I will not go on living, piling sin upon sin, so in the end I will be better off and my eternity will be a little less painful." While I was in the hospital my parents visited me as often as it was allowed. The nurses and other patients pointed out how good they were to visit me so often. One time I thought that they were vampires and they had turned me into a vampire as a child and now I was un-dead and I got angry at them for stealing my soul and condemning me to eternal damnation before I was old enough to choose for myself. One thinks strange thoughts when one is a paranoid schizophrenic (though usually I am not paranoid).

So I do not blame one for committing suicide, more than any other sin. I do not think it is the act of a coward. But the effects are unthinkable as I believe . . . and in my mind, I know. Perhaps one can think that after they swallowed the pills and before they passed out they repented and called out to God and were forgiven, but they also say one generally dies as one lives and such repentance is rare. I am a nobody. But I cry out in the wilderness and nobody hears me. Nobody has crossed the Jordan to receive my baptism. Perhaps because I am not a saint. I am a fool. Yes, but a fool who loves, but I have converted no one. Perhaps I strengthen the faith of a few, like Julian, who knows, but I am a little man. A poor fool of no account. All alone. What God cares of my prayers? How many have prayed for those who they loved, yet despite their prayers, the ones they have loved were damned?

Yes or no. Nobody reads this anyway. I hope out loud, but nobody hears me. I hope and pray. It is Christmas soon. Merry Christmas. Go to Church and pray, even if you do not believe anymore. Don't hate life.

The Parable of the Onion

I find The Brother's Karamozov to be greatest novel written by a fallen man that I have ever read. The Novel is a fallen art form. The cry of Adam after the fall, trying to make sense of his misery after he lost the gifts of God. The tragedy of Don Quixote is that he loses the faith in the end after he is defeated and dies a broken man. But the Brother's Karamazov is a Novel of Hope. Dr. White sees in it an act of hope and a sign of the future conversion of Russia in fulfillment of the Fatima prophecies. Alyosha is the fictional character I adore and relate to the most. Who most touches me. People say he is boring. I see that as a sign they are bad people. I often think about Dostoyevsky and hope he is in heaven. He was buried in a Russian Orthodox Monastery. Thinking of EENS, we would assume he is damned, but we can always hope for a deathbed conversion to Catholicism. I would hope Dostoyevsky is in heaven more so than nearly any other man who died apparently outside the visible structures of the Church.

The two most important parables in the novel are "The Grand Inquisitor" and "The Parable of the Onion". I will be silent on the first and focus on the second. There is a wicked soul in hell who only ever performed one good act in her entire life. One day she saw a beggar at her door and she gave her an onion. So after she was damned her guardian angel told the good God about the onion and the good God told her to take that onion and offer it to the damned soul and if he could draw her out of hell using that onion she could be saved. So the angel offers the onion to the damsel and starts to draw her out and she is getting near out of hell. The other souls see her and cry out. "save us! Let us hold on to thy skirts so that we too can get out and be saved!" But the damsel was wicked. She did not want to help out the other poor souls. She wanted to be saved alone. And she had no faith. She thought that if the other souls grabbed on to her the onion would break. So she started kicking the other poor souls and crying out "It is my onion, not yours. Mine!" And as she cried out "Mine!" the onion broke and the damsel fell back into hell, deeper than she was before and remained there forever. Because she no compassion on her fellow souls in hell.

I feel that I have been through hell and I hope to be drawn out. I want to hold onto my onion until the sweet sweet end. I will try not to kick the other poor souls who cling on to me but instead to help them come aboard and maybe some of us will be drawn up to heaven and have peace in the bosom of Abraham forever and ever.

P.S. I saw someone from the hospital today. I will not share his name because it should remain private. He was Jewish. He looked old and feeble in the hospital and he was old and feeble today with a nurse walking with him.

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:

Benedict of the Desert

There was a great saint named Benedict and he always had the greatest care to keep
away from sins of impurity.

Praise be to Holy God and all his angels and his saints.
Matthew

Hell Is Like A Ball In The Center of Eternity

Hell is like a ball of fire in the center of eternity and heaven surrounds it as a hollow sphere. The souls in hell burn with a bright flame that serves as the bright sun in the center of eternity. And the souls in heaven walk about on the inside of the sphere and bask in the glow of the fires of hell and get light from it and see by it. But like the sun in the temporal world the souls in heaven cannot look at the sun. It is too bright and to stare at it would blind them. After the earth has melted away into nothingness. Does God look into the heart of the sun to see the souls of the damned in the fires that illuminate heaven? Or does God forget them? "And these souls God forgets."

Matthew