A Dream of Hell

 I have two sedevacantist friends. One is named Julian. He is blind and has diabetes. The other is Tom. He has the cancer. I talk to them and they talk to each other. Julian and Tom had a falling out because Julian told Tom not to use bad language and Tom thought there was nothing wrong with it.

Julian had a dream that Tom was falling into hell and was asking Julian to help him. And Julian told him to stop using bad language. So now Julian thinks Tom is bad for using curse words, not blasphemies or using the Lord's name in vain, but common dirty words. And he is in mortal sin and will go to hell if he does not stop using them.

Anyway yesterday was my birthday. My father got me a computer. It was cheap. But it is good. It has a backlit keyboard and a touch screen. But it only cost 309 dollars. Computers are cheap now. It is a chromebook, so it is a budget computer. I am glad. My old computer still works except that the keyboard is broken. Not the whole keyboard, but some of the keys. I am listening to a lot of Dr. Matthew Raphael Johnson's radio shnows. I like him. He is Russian Orthodox. A priest of on of the more conservative jurisdictions that is not in communion with many of the other ones. He had a religious crisis and investigated all the Christian Churches. He went to St. Marys and talked to the SSPX. And he thought the Novus Ordo was a joke. But he decided that the Eastern Orthodox were right. The Greeks were right. And later he was ordained a priest. He says everything you know about the world or history is wrong.

I hope Tom is not in disgrace. I love Tom and Julian both. I wish they would not argue. 

Small Praying Mantis

 

So after watering the flowers I went to the door and on the handle was a pretty green small praying mantis. I watched her walk on the door, by the edge and I opened the door and was careful not to crush her as she was on the edge. Then she walked up and I closed the door so she could walk up the wall and be safe. Praying Mantis sightings are rare. I see them more often at fire island. But I must not have seen a wild praying mantis more than twenty times in my life, maybe less because I can't remember every time I saw one.

Ben Is Dead Now

 Julian is home from the nursing home. It has been three weeks. On Fridays I have been bringing him two tuna salad sandwiches. Tuna with mayonnaise and celery and cucumbers on whole wheat bread with lettuce. I get the tuna in olive oil, not the cheap kind, but also not the most expensive kind. And he asks me to buy him books which he may give me money for. He is always asking for things. He is blind but he wants books.

When he went into the nursing home he gave a friend of his ten boxes of his books. The friend put the boxes in his garage and they got moldy. Eight of the ten boxes of books got so bad that the friend threw them away and now most of the books are gone. So Julian wants to get back some of those books. Julian is always asking for things. He calls often and often asks me to look for things online. Religious books. Some St. Philomena oil. I bought him two books. He said he would pay me back. I don't mind buying him things as I have no use for my money at the moment, but my parents don't like it.

He moved in with his sisters and his nephew. The apartment is six blocks from my house underneath the elevated subway train. So I can walk to see him whenever. I went three times with his books and the tuna.

Ben died. He was a sedevacantist. I did not hear of it in time to go to the funeral. He was married to his Filipino wife by Father Cekada. A sedevacantist Bishop I had never heard of said his funeral Mass in New Jersey.  Like flies. I will tell Julian about his passing.

Tom's Tumors

 I dreamed about Tom from Church. We were playing a game similar to bowling and it was his turn but he was not there. I went to look for him and I found him and he said "look at my tumors" and I could see tumors on his hands and he showed me his midsection where there were also tumors. They looked green and showed through the skin. Then he said "If I go to hell I will hate you forever." And I said "No! I will love you forever. I will love you forever."

Friends

Do you have a lot of friends? I have two friends really, and then some people I know. My best friend is Julian. He is a good friend. He lives in a nursing home because he is blind and has diabetes and either his sisters don't want to take care of him, or he does not want to live with his sisters. We met at Church, in the upper room. He calls me on the phone and we talk. And I go to visit him in the nursing home. Because of the virus, I have not been able to visit him lately. He is a religious fanatic. Even more so than I am. He makes me seem like a liberal atheist in comparison. He may be the most religious person I know, other than Cora maybe. Cora is a belle. But Julian is nice to me and I am happy he is my friend even though we disagree on many things. He is a sedevacantist and a Feeneyite, and I am neither, though when those points come up I do not argue. I am almost a Feeneyite, but I am not. And when he says those antichrists in Rome are not true popes, I smile and nod, but do not argue. Though he does know I am not a sedevacantist.

My second friend is angry Tom. He calls me on occasion, but not often. He goes around to the various traditional Churches in the city, and often comes to mine. And we talk. He argues a lot, but we have never argued. He once saw me looking at the beautiful Cecilia because she is so beautiful and said I should go after her, which I thought was strange, because she is so far out of my league. Tom is also a sedevacantist, but he is not a Feeneyite. Tom will also talk about the antichrists in Rome, and he will not call him Francis, but always Bergoglio this, and Bergoglio that. But I love him also. Tom is sick with cancer, though when I see him he always looks good, though sometimes he can not walk so well.

Then there are other friends. Cora is one. She is always praying. And she has strange beliefs about health and sickness and she is pious but she is not a sedevacantist. Very much not so, she thinks they are bad people and she is a loyal SSPX supporter. Pray for our priests, she says. She is always praying. She moved to Kentucky and then to West Virginia. Her dream is to live near an SSPX Church in Oregon where she will be able to go to daily Mass and get last rites and be buried. She is a belle.

And then there are old acquaintances. I once had two girlfriends. The first one was named Mellonie. I do not know how she is doing. She was from Hong Kong. For a while after we broke up. I broke up with her. For a while after we broke up we kept in touch. I would email her every year on her birthday and at Christmas, and she would email me on my birthday. And some times we would meet up at a diner somewhere. Last year she did not email me on my birthday. Or on Christmas. So I did not want to push and did not email her on Christmas, or this year on her birthday. I have fond memories of her, though I did not treat her well. Not that I abused her.

The other girlfriend was named Stephanie. I do not remember her fondly. If I could I would erase her from my life. It was a disaster. An avalanche. And then after her I went crazy. I do not keep in touch with her. She has an Instagram but I do not look at it.

Then I have my old muse. I used to have a crush on her and then a few years ago found out she was an online person so I look at some of her posts. I was really obsessed with her for a while. We do not talk, but I look at her Instagram. She is sad lately. And I can do nothing to help her.

Then I guess I could mention two people I used to work with. Matthew and Andrea. They are married. They worked with me and my old muse a long time ago. I mentioned them because I met them two times last year and we had a good time. But we haven't spoken much since so I can not count them as friends.

Of the people who I think wish me the best, I can count my Church friends. Firstly Julian and Tom, but also Cora and Karen and Barbara and Chris and the other Tom. And then there is our priest, Carl S, who calls me on the phone to talk sometimes now that we have no Mass.

When the world goes back to normal again I will go to confession and confess my sins. I have one old one and one new one, I hope not mortal. But I feel as if I have God's grace. I am not scrupulous anymore. I used to worry more when I was a new Christian, but now I feel as if God is my friend, and not my slave-master.

And then there are internet friends. I talk to people on the internet. Perhaps I could count Robert and Chris as friends. For a while I talked to Chris about things that were important, but we haven't talked much lately. And Robert has always been nice to me and read my stories.

So I do not have a lot of friends, and I have no wife or girlfriend and no prospects. I am too old anyway to start a romantic relationship. And I do not really want one as I do not think I am fit for being a husband or a father. So be it. But the touch of a woman gives sensual pleasure. I did like it when a woman would kiss me or run her hands through my hair.

And then there are my heavenly friends. First of all  there is Gemma, who has been the saint I have been most devoted to since I became religious. I speak to her all the time. And then there is the Cure of Ars and Padre Pio, and then of course the Blessed Mother who I pray to. And Jesus is my friend. A friend of God, I am a friend of God. Am I? I hope so. I want to be.

I do not feel lonely, having so few friends. I am happy. I have my family. But perhaps if I had more friends I would be happier? Or a wife? But they would have to be Church friends and not secular ones. But my Church is not big. Perhaps I could become friends with the lovely Helena and the beautiful Cecilia. Perhaps, but I doubt it. I am friendly with some people, but not the pretty young girls.

So I hope my old muse is happy soon. Things fall apart. I do not want things to go badly with her. I would be sad.

Girls

I think a lot about life. My life is happy. I have my routines. During the pandemic I have become a drunkard. Not literally. But I have gone against the AA teaching that one can never have a drink because it will always lead to the loss of the soul to the demons of the liquor. But who are the important people in my life? I titled this post "girls" because I like girls. I have no girl in my life. I am insignificant. There is not a girl in this world who cares about me or who shows me favor.

There are girl saints in heaven who I communicate with. And I have a girl who used to be my muse for a while but we never talk, though she posts things online. But no girl thinks about me always, loves me, and cares for me and would be sad if I died today.

I am an old man and I am poor. It is good that I am happy with little, because I will never have more.

But it is strange. In late 2018 and early 2019 I had my muse who I thought about and wrote my stories about and obsessed over, though not with lust, but that is over and now I only have the saints.

It has been a long time since I have been to Mass, so I do not see the lovely Helena and the beautiful Cecilia and the other girls at Church. I hope to see them again soon. We are not friends, as I am with Julian and angry Tom, but I love seeing them with grace.

I think a lot about life. It is good that there are so many birds. I could be happy even with only sparrows and pigeons, the ugly rock doves. There is something beautiful about birds. When I think about animals, and how animals are beautiful and people are ugly. It has to be because animals are innocent and people are defiled with sin. A sinful man should be uglier than any animal, while a just man should be more beautiful than any animal. For those with eyes to see. I say this as a schizophrenic whose first fall into craziness was to think I could see peoples' sins and was repulsed by them. Perhaps it is a gift and not a delusion.

If you want to be my friend, please send me a message. I could use more friends. I have a couple of friends and then there are other people. To have someone to save you or someone for you to save. In this world of pain. Gemma is my friend, but she has never visited her. I only love her and hope she loves me. And I never hear a word from my muse, but that is on the razor's edge. And Mellonie, I don't think she wants to talk to me anymore. I am dust to her. But I love the good God. Happy birthday.

Battling Porn

https://www.catholicgentleman.net/2020/05/battling-porn-how-to-know-if-youre-addicted/

I read this blog for some reason. I don't remember how I found it. It seems to be an attempt to help young troubled men lead decent Catholic lives. This post is about pornography addiction. I guess a lot of men struggle with this. It is hard to deal with. In my days before I became religious I used to look at pornography and it was highly addictive. Now I do not struggle with it, though I do drink too much caffeine and I like beer on occasion. Those are my addictions. But I think the question should not be, "how to know if you're addicted." It should be rather, that any use at all is a sin, so even if one only does it on occasion and could give it up, one would still be damned. Sometimes you really do have to gouge out your eye to attain the crown.

Forsaken not man being one with the father. I don't know. I am having problems lately. In thinking about people. I am judging them harshly. I am thinking they are bad, evil, and knowingly wicked. I know I am wicked, but not as bad as I used to be. But I think most people are bad. Maybe if one looks at the world it would make sense to think we are all evil. The world has more physical resources than ever before since the great flood and we are gluttonous for material things and pleasure more than we ever were and nobody is satisfied. Everyone eats their bread on the blood of Christ. I don't know. Rape of the world for momentary pleasure. I would be happier if we lived in a world of relative poverty, as long as people had enough to eat and didn't starve, but it were simpler, with fewer luxuries. As long as the government did not torture us or it was dangerous to go out in the streets because of crime.

I have been trying to appreciate the dollar store. I was happy to learn that their diet soda was passable so I can save 1.25 for every bottle of soda I buy. Last visit I bought two 6 oz bags of coffee and I am excited to try them. If they are passable I can save about 2 dollars for every two bags I buy. It is exciting. To live thriftily. It is good so I can give more money to Church or to my family. They have pretty good dollar sandwiches which I can eat for breakfast or lunch, also for a dollar. It is really helpful. And they have lots of good cookies.

I got my holy cards from the monastery. They gave me a card to apply to join a confraternity of Jesus under the title of King of Love. It is a fairly new devotion. I may join. And they sell statues of Jesus that they carve themselves. If I join I will buy one of their statues. They are expensive, but they are a labor of love so they would be worth it.

I have a statue of a black Mary holding the baby Jesus wearing royal garments. This is Jesus alone as a beautiful little boy.

I was thinking about sedevacantism. I know some sedevacantists. Many online. Some in person. My best friend Julian (who I did not choose my pen name after) is one, and angry Tom is another. Of the sedevacantists I know, some are good people. But I am now very opposed to their position on Churchy things. When someone becomes a sedevacantist I get sad inside. I am a liberal. But they seem to go too far. They say for every heresy that arises, another heresy the opposite of it arises that goes too far in response to the first heresy. The example here is the Donatists and now the sedevacantists. They are scandalized by the Church so they reject it. But I love Julian, and I would think that he is in a state of grace despite his sedevacantism. It is understandable and I hope they are not condemned. I hope God does not judge them with as strict of a judgment as they judge the Pope and the Bishops and the Novus Ordo priests.

I hate Novus Ordo Watch and have for years. And True Restoration is a running joke in my mind. A sick joke. Even worse by far than the Crusade Channel of the Saint Benedict Center (and I respect Father Feeney). But nobody cares what I think. I was amused when someone spoke about me on Cathinfo as my handle. As if I were a famous person. They spoke of me as if I was a person of note that all traditional Catholics should know. It was as if someone said: "you are a traditional Catholic and you do not know 'Matto'?". Perhaps I am prominent in this little pond as I have made many posts on various traditional Catholic forums. But very few people read this blog. My SSPX priests know of my internet handle and that I talk on the forums. I do not bash them very often so I am not ashamed of them knowing who I am, though I do not support them blindly either. I do hope they are mostly good priests as I think they are, and not bad, though recently Mr. Voris, who I think is one of the least reputable men in the trad world, has accused some of them of sexual sins. So I have made a name for myself, I guess. It is a small world. I have been living in this pond since 2010, though I first sighted it in 2008. The world has changed a lot in 12 years. When I discovered this pond George W. Bush was president, then quickly Obama took office and now we are near the end of Trump's first term. It seemed like yesterday that I told Matthew that he should vote for Trump because the media hated him, but he preferred Ted Cruz. And now he is a fervent Trump supporter while I don't trust him, though I prefer him to a Democrat. For a while he even believed in Q Anon.

When you come to judge this world by fire.

Today our family, me, the girl, Michael, mom and dad, went to the wildlife refuge. It is a pond by the bay which is of salt water, where a lot of birds live. We saw yellow birds, swallows, red-winged blackbirds, ducks, geese, and various gulls and terns. There were so many swallows eating bugs. they darted back and forth, turning quickly, over the water and over the sand, eating flying bugs too small for us to see. We saw two Canada geese walking, presumable a mother and father, with two baby geese. My father took pictures of them and I told him to send me one of them which I want to post on my Instagram. My father took two pictures of me but I didn't look good in them so I will not share them. And after that we went to get food. We went to Popeyes but it was closed so instead we went to KFC. The food was good (for fast food) so it made me happy. And now I am having my beer, relaxing, and writing this blog post. I am such a sinner.

For what it's worth, amazon is recommending me a book titled Things Fall Apart. It is reading my blog posts. I have no desire to read right now, I have not even read The Leopard or The Penitent, all I want to read is my prayer books. Much of it the same every day, with variations for the days of the week and the seasons of the year. And I pray fourteen different Stations of the Cross, for the most part in a two week cycles, for the most part.

So I will join the Confraternity of Jesus, King of Love. It is my monastery. I gave them money. They are under the local diocese in Ireland, but they say the Latin Mass and are somewhat traditional. They are not SSPX leaning of sedevacantist. I hope they are good people. I have been watching their livestreams during the lockdown and they have a lot of young monks, though the priest abbot is older. But all of the other monks look young. I can not join them, as I am too old, and also because I am infirm. I have never prayed like they pray, though. I pray a little, but they pray a lot. Every day. They pray. I watch Vespers, but that is only one of the offices. There are eight, plus Mass. One could think of it as a job. But it is so calming when I listen to them pray.

I hope to be able to join and buy their statue. I believe a 4 inch statue it 78 dollars. A bit much, but it is beautiful and hand-made and would go to a good cause. I will join the confraternity. The only requirements are to pray a short prayer, "Jesus, King of Love, I put my trust in thy loving mercy" in the morning and in the evening, and to carry a medal wherever you go. I can put it on my key chain. I am so glad they sent me their holy cards. I will not cherish them as I do the cards of Gemma, but they are nice. One is a picture of the Little Flower. In the sea.

I do not have a lot of friends anymore. I never had a lot. I do not think Mellonie wants to talk to me anymore. I will not contact her. If she contacts me I will be happy and try to be friends, but it is up to her. I do not have a lot of other friends. Nobody loves me or cares. I have Julian and angry Tom, yes. Julian is my best friend, the crazy sedevacantist. And Cora calls me sometimes. I have to get back to Church. With the beautiful Cecilia and the lovely Helena. What a joy. When I see them I think of how beautiful they are and not how ugly everyone else is. I imagine it is because they have grace while everyone else has sin. But that is merely speculation. In the eyes of God. Pax tecum.

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.

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.

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.

Three Rosaries

I bought three rosaries online today. The last time I purchased a rosary online, it was a beautiful blue rosary with a relic from Gemma's coffin in it. It is the rosary that will be wrapped around my hands as I lay in my coffin stone cold dead. I wonder who will go to my wake and funeral. I only have Church friends. I lost my secular friends after I went crazy and I don't think Mellonie wants to talk to me anymore, but some of the people from Church will come and pray for me. And my parents and my brother and my cousins. But today I bought three everyday rosaries. They are all wooden with cords and no links, as I have found these to be the best ones for me. I can pray with them without links to break. The cord is stronger than the chain. If a rosary has five hundred links, only one of them has to break for the rosary to become worthless, and in my experience, one of them always breaks. When my first rosary broke I saw it as a sign of my own reprobation as the breaking of a rosary must certainly be a sign of damnation. But no, they always break. They are meant to be pretty, but since nobody ever actually prays the rosary, they make them weak so they break if regularly used. I am sure there are quality chain rosaries that do not break, but I have never owned one. My favorite was very expensive and made of green malachite stones and real silver links and it fell to pieces, both the stones and the links. And every other chain rosary I bought since has also fallen to pieces. So now I like the wooden beads on cords. This is the website I like to buy them from. I wish more people would buy from them, so if you want a rosary, order it from them. They have the kind I like and I am grateful to them because once I bought a rosary from them, prayed with it, and pulled it a bit, and the string broke on the first day I used it. So I complained and they sent me a new one right away at no cost and it has lasted for years, so ever since they were so nice to me I like to talk them up and recommend their website.

I wonder if we will be watching the Super Bowl this year. Mass is at 5, so it will end at 6. And the game starts around 6:30, usually. I know our priest is a football fan and his team is the Chiefs and they are playing, so we may all go out as a group to a pub or something to watch the game. There is nothing more worldly than the Super Bowl and the inner Jansenist in me suggests boycotting it on principle. I remember I watched the Katy Perry halftime show a few years ago and it was a mockery of the Whore of Babylon from the Book of the Apocalypse. So I have no desire to take part in the satanism or blasphemy on public display. But I have nothing against having two pints and eating some wings and the football itself is merely stupid and not sinful. The gladiators are not killing each other, and there are no Christians being eaten by tigers or anything. Though some suggested boycotting the game over some advertisements promoting sodomy, for what it's worth. And the pro-lifers complained that the network turned down a pro-life advertisement. Still, I would not want to give an anti-christ television network a couple of million dollars for an ad even if the ad itself did promote a good cause.

So I am more excited for the rosaries than about the big game. I still have a weakness for baseball. I like when the Yankees win. I want them to win the world series. Last year I watched a few games. I will probably watch a few this year. But it is still stupid and a weakness of mine. An imperfection perhaps, and not a sin.

I want to live in my little room and be peaceful and pray and hope as I have been. I have been good since I got out of the hospital. It has been six months. I am at peace, even in my infirmities. More hope, and no despair. Nobody bothers me, and I don't feel lonely even though I know I am pretty much alone. I am happy more than any other emotion. I live in my little room and look at pictures. I go to Church to say my prayers. I pray for people in my life who I love, and people from my past who I used to love and still have a fondness for. Lately there is one person who I am thinking of and praying for all the time. I have thought about praying the Office of the Dead for her and did tonight, even though she is still alive. I wonder if my prayers make a difference? Even if God does not exist, the meditation and disciplining of the mind and the will makes me happy and gives me peace, even if there is no power of divinity in it. And of course I think there is great power in it. In prayer, if even not in my own prayer because I am feeble and a sinful man like Saul.

I imagine Cora's prayers are powerful. She is living with the relatives of a friend who are members of some sort of cult in another state and is praying for them, unable to make it to a Church, or at least a Church she is willing to go to. She is more pious than me, as I am willing to step foot in a Novus Ordo Church to pray. She prays more than anyone I know and I think she is very holy if anyone I know is holy. Angry Tom thinks she is crazy. She is a seventy eight year old Filipino woman, forty years older than I am, but when I used to see her at Church I sometimes thought about how beautiful she was for an older woman and how if she was forty years younger she would be the kind of woman I would like to marry (if I were not broken). And then there is Karen. She is feebleminded like I am, and is an old maid. I bet her prayers are powerful. She told me she prays for three and a half hours every day. She likes the Pieta Prayer Book. And she comes to Mass. She is like Cora in her sensibilities and she gets visits from Jesus and Mary and they tell her what to do and what Churches to go to. She has not told me of any prophecies. She told me about how one time one of her friends tried to get her to marry the devil as a young woman but she refused and another girl she knew accepted and wedded the devil and now she is rich and living with a multimillionaire husband not caring for a thing but trying not to think about eternity. And Julian's prayers must be powerful. He is all alone in the nursing home with no friends and nobody to take him to Church. Our good priest visits him to hear his confessions and bring him Holy Communion every once in a while and they argue about salvation. In my mind whatever your position on EENS is I can't imagine a lot of people are going to heaven these days. I wonder about the Christians in Africa. They are dirt poor, but they have families and they seem to believe and they fight with Muslims and are more conservative than Americans and Europeans. There liturgy is strange and Africanized but I hope a lot of them have the faith and are good people. So Julian in his nursing home alone, with nurses who are not kind to him, praying for all of us, blind, with bad kidneys, unable to walk much. He is a victim for sure and it is always nice to talk to him. I am looking forward to March because he says he will be leaving the nursing home in March and moving in with his sisters, six blocks from my house. So we can be friends. I can bring him to the diner and we can eat together, perhaps once a week. And perhaps once in a while I can get my Father to drive us to our Mission in the City for Mass. He will not go to the local Churches where I go for Eucharistic Adoration and Benediction because he does not believe the Novus Ordo has true Sacraments so to him it would be idolatry, so he only goes to the Latin Mass (and not all Latin Masses) and the Eastern Rite Divine Liturgy. I think Jesus is there and that God would not abandon 99.9 percent of the world's Catholics to idolatry, even if the Novus Ordo is a deficient Mass, but he is more pious than me and is even a sedevacantist if you know what that means. So I do not tell him about how I like to go to Novus Ordo Church to look at Jesus because that would lead to an argument. I can tell angry Tom that, but not Julian or Cora or Karen, because I like to keep the peace, and I don't think their differing opinions would lead them to have less hope for salvation.

So I am happy to wait on my three rosaries. They should come next week and I will have them blessed by Father after Mass next Sunday. I am thinking of buying a fourth rosary, this one a fifteen decade one, also with wooden beads and a cord. It is more expensive though. I have no use for a twenty decade one because I do not pray the Luminous Mysteries (because I am a traditional Catholic and we do not like new prayers for the most part, though I have thought about learning how to say them and also learning how to say the Divine Mercy Chaplet, as an act of charity. I doubt, even if I do not think they are as good as the real rosary, that it would be a sin to pray those prayers, even if they are weaker).

Yesterday there were so many grackles. I noticed there were two kinds of grackles. One with brown breasts and one who were all black. The black ones are bigger. There were like fifty of them in front of a house near St. Benny's flying to and fro, cackling. Often I do wonder if animals really are a sign. The black birds represent the state of the souls of the people who live near by, like the squirrels. If people were holy all the squirrels would be white and all the pigeons would be as ivory doves. I looked at the grackles for five minutes or so. Some were eating. Really, they were just hanging out, talking to each other. Like people do outside of their apartments when you walk by and smell marijuana smoke. I wonder if animals get bored. I never get bored anymore. I waste time on the computer, but when I have quiet and silence it does not bother me. My thoughts are straight and I always have a prayer in my mind or on my lips. For some reason I never get tired of the same prayer, at least for the last six months. In the hospital in my despair in limbo I prayed Ave Maris Stella. Now in my freedom I pray a simpler prayer in English, "O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto thine heart." I say it over and over. Sometimes in front of Jesus I look at him, and I did this today at Eucharistic Adoration and repeat it over and over, hundreds of times. Or in front of the tabernacle. Today I held my rosary beads and counted them out, in my mind, not vocally. Over and over. They say the Orthodox do that with the Jesus Prayer "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me a sinner". But you can do that with any prayer. A monk might retreat on to his mountain with a few lines of a psalm and contemplate them for seventy years and still not fully understand it. I will walk around the mountain a thousand times. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will not fear because the Lord is with me. His rod and his staff, they comfort me. But my mind is by no means free of trouble. Sometimes I have bad thoughts but when I do usually I speak them out loud, they do not remain in my mind, and sometimes I say bad things. But usually I have peace. And when I go to confession I confess that sometimes I say bad things to myself but I do not remember how often or what exactly I said. It is my most common sin, but Father P. told me to not worry because it probably was not a sin because it was like a tic of the mind with no intent in the will.

I just thought about the mayor of Kew Gardens, Aaron, and how I told him that when he died I would go to his grave in the Maple Grove Cemetery and put a toasted bialy with butter and a cup of coffee on his headstone. I wonder if he is still alive. It has been twelve years and he was an old man back then. He must be dead by now, no? I have not seen him like some of the old reprobates from my last job when I am around Kew Gardens to go shopping, or to the bank, or to the post office with my mother. Poor old Aaron and Stanley. Yes, they must be dead by now. So much time has passed. Perhaps I should pray for them?

There is one thing lately that I am grateful for. I am grateful that I am a happy crazy and not an angry crazy or a depressed crazy. If one has to break, I broke in a better way. I am not suicidal, and I do not suffer. Now. If things get bad I may go there in the future and when I was newly broken, I was in a bad place, but I survived. But now, I am glad to be happy broken.

Peninsula

Home from visiting my best friend Julian. We talked about Church things and prayed the St. Michael Chaplet. He is a sedevacantist and a Feeneyite if you know what those things are. When we talk he often remarks how he was threatened and thrown out of various Churches for his peculiar beliefs. He was thrown out of the Church whose Bishop was in the post last month. The Bishop yelled at him for not accepting the papacy of Pope John Paul II (even though the bishop does not in any meaningful way submit to him) and cast him into the exterior darkness. And he had problems at the little upper room where I go to Church and where I met him. You see, Julian is vocal about his rather extreme beliefs. I understand them, even though I do not agree with them.

He seems to be a pious soul, and is sorry for his sins. He said in his youth he became wicked after falling into the heavy metal scene. But now he is sorry. He was not nearly as wicked as I was in my youth. And now he is blind while I can see. It is comfortable talking to him knowing that he can not see me. I sat on his bed and he was in his wheel chair next to me. I prayed the Chaplet slowly and we had to end it before the last Our Father near the end because the nurse interrupted us.

It is good to visit the sick. I told him that if they let him out of the nursing home and he moves to his sisters' house six blocks from the house, I will take him to the diner which is two blocks from the apartment. He told me he can walk up stairs and walk with a walker. He goes to physical therapy. I can guide him. Perhaps we could meet for lunch at the diner once a week. One week, I will pay, the next week, he will pay. That is how we can be friends. I will give him back his two bags of religious books (not that he can read them).

There were a lot of sea gulls and common starlings on the way to the nursing home and back. Seagulls are more beautiful that common starlings I think. The way they fly through the air softly like a ship at sea in the steady waves.

I wonder if I will be able to get angry Tom to visit and meet us at the diner near our house. Perhaps he would like to talk to Julian. I gave him his phone number. He said he would like to call him.

So nothing of note, just to remember that I visited a friend today, really my best friend.

Out In the Street

I am like a stupid little child. I know nothing. I just have a few ideas in my mind. I want to be good. I am lucky to have a home. I like going to Church. Especially since I got back from the hospital. Church has been my life and it is a happy life. I think about God all the time and only about him and the angels and the saints and the Blessed Mother. I think, I pray, and when I am on the computer I go to mostly religious sites. Before I was in the hospital for a while I thought about two things, God, and women, but now I am thinking of women less.

This is my favorite photograph of the Little Flower. I find she looks very beautiful. She looks peaceful. She is everyone's favorite saint by now. When I think of Marie Therese I think she has a beautiful name and wonder if she was named after the Little Flower as seems likely. I often have the idea that one can see grace (as well as sin), in the faces of people, and that this effect grows more and more over time. So that a just man looks just and a sinner looks wicked. Make-up can make such things confusing. But I get the sense that the Little Flower looks like a good girl in the photographs I have seen of her. She also looks very happy and serene.

This is her on her sick bed, as she lay dying. Holding a crucifix. I was struck by this picture also like with an arrow in the heart. Waiting for the unknown. I do not like having my own picture taken. There are different mirrors in our house. In the bathroom mirror, I always look good. But in the living room mirror I do not look as good. I do not know what I look like to other people. The last time I saw my brother, he told me I looked good as long as I don't gain weight. And he told me to do fifty push-ups a day, something I have yet to begin.

I have a very happy life. My mind is broken like a kaleidoscope, but the broken images I see are happy. As I was walking to the store to buy dinner I just looked at the clouds and could not help but think how beautiful everything was and how it made me happy. As the birds fly here and there in different directions, like every one of them was an angel. And when the pigeons fly in little companies always in circles and in curves. How do they know where to go and when to turn? I wonder if I will see the little brown pigeon with the crown again. The one who has a turquoise band on his leg and goes around with the pigeons and flies with him. I thought he must have been a pet, as he looked different from all the other pigeons and had a band, and that he left his house to hang out with the wild pigeons and then at the end of the day came back to his home.

On New Year's day we went to Church for the circumcision. I spoke to angry Tom and other people as well. Three of us spent all day in the coffee shop talking, mostly me and Tom. About Church and people we knew. It was nice to talk for a while. Neither of us had anything more important to do. But what is more important that going to Church and being with friends?

Tomorrow is Sunday, a big day. The plan is for us to go out after Church for dinner at a nice restaurant. So I got a lot of money out of the bank to cover the bill. We may drink wine.

I have my little pictures and my little books. I have everything I need. For now. The future I don't know. But I have hope.

I do not have many friends. Except for people from Church. I hope they are good people. We are all crazy though. All of us. Only crazy people could go to the conservative Latin Mass that we go to. But I have few friends. I lost a friend this year. My old girlfriend. I hope she contacts me again, but for now she is gone. She was my only connection to my school days oh so long ago and I have fond memories of her. I wonder if there are people from my past who often think of me. Does anyone love me or wish that they were with me? I guess it does not matter. I am happy. But perhaps they could contact me and then we would be happy together. I'm in heaven when you smile.

Ronan and Tom?

I hope to see both Ronan and Tom in Church today. They both told me they would be there. They were old friends but a little less than a year ago they got in a fight and stopped being friends. I hope they make friends again. Today would be a good day. It would be nice to go out to dinner with both of them after Church tonight. I hope so.

. . .

They were there but they did not reconcile. The friendship was not saved. And father was sick so we did not have Mass. We prayed the Rosary. Oh well.Peace be upon them.

Going to Doctors in Old Age

Lingering on to a life
Not worth living
Till death comes.

I was talking to my mother about how she is going to all these doctors and how she could afford it. Medicare pays for it she says. I love my mother. But thinking about it I wonder how it is sustainable. If all of the fifty million old people go to doctors as frequently as she does and doctors want to make their quarter of a million a year and the insurance companies have to make their billions and the drug companies have to make their billions, and it is all paid for by the government, doesn't that seem unsustainable? I have a good doctor, but I do not know who are the greater leeches, doctors or university professors, or public employees? I am a leech myself, but I am infirm, so the leechness is not of my own making. But all of those old people contribute nothing to society according to the mind of the utilitarian (the old retired people). So they are only kept alive for nostalgia sake if one wants to be a utilitarian. I am also only kept alive for the same reason. But somebody has to pay for all of this. I only take a little, but what of the doctor who makes his quarter of a million and all of his clients are on Medicare being paid for by tax dollars? This is why I imagine pretty soon they are just going to deny care to old people to save money and let them die off in large numbers. Disabled people as well. I am not a libertarian, but sometimes I think like one. I can not decide if the world is threatened more by the governments or the big corporations, so I can not decide if it would be better to be a socialist or a libertarian. Perhaps our society has reached the point of no return as I suspect. I do not foresee an environmental catastrophe, but rather the boot stage. So far I am left alone and am able to survive for the moment. I do not have to watch television and I can be quiet and pray and they let me go to Church. I have food and shelter. I do not go to public school so I am not indoctrinated for six hours every day. I have my share of peace. But there is Twitter.

Nobody told me it would be this way. It is interesting going to benediction and adoration at the local Catholic Churches. It is mostly Spanish women. A lot of the people hold out their arms as if they can feel the grace of God flowing into their hearts from the Blessed Sacrament. There is one strange man who mumbles prayers in a low voice and often he brings a Bible to read and write in. I can recognize the Novus Odro version of the Confiteor but the rest is to me only mumbling. An old woman with a machine that makes creaking noises that helps her breath through a tube. A man with white hair who is handsome. And the beautiful Polish woman. Sometimes around noon there is a young man with black hair who reads the Breviary on his iPad. I imagine he may want to become a priest. I do not talk with the other people who go to pray. Except for the one time Christian came to talk to me. But I remember what they look like. I hope they are good people. Some of the women wear veils or hats, but not the majority. At Holy Child on Friday nights when there is Benediction, there is incense and it is usually presided over by a deacon. The Spanish deacon, when it is his turn, makes a big deal over it, praying the Rosary, giving a sermon, chanting hymns, and then the Benediction and the Divine Praises. The other deacon just does the Benediction and a prayer for vocations. I like when the Spanish deacon presides even though he prays a lot in Spanish and I cannot understand it. He seems to have the faith, or if not the faith, he believes something. With his Jesus and his demons.

God is patient
God is kind
We are always
On his mind.

One, Two, Three, Four
Someone's knocking on your door.
Five, Six, Seven, Eight
Someone's waiting at your gate.

Into the sea, Into the sea
Mother is waiting
We go to the sea.

Everyone has their beliefs that are dear to them. One of mine is the belief that God created the world as is recorded in Genesis. I get upset when other Catholics reject this, and so many do, probably most of them. I feel as if they are crucifying Christ with their infidelity and it is an infidelity that none of them recognize and they go on and act as if they still have the faith. So I see them as very dangerous to believers. Little snakes within the sanctuary. I say this because I got upset at someone online for this reason the other day. Snakes in the sanctuary. Often these snakes think they are enlightened and that those who have faith in the scriptures are ignorant little children and that they are the superior elite. They are snakes, so I got upset. A bunch of asps biting Christians like the Jews in the desert, and dragging them to eternal ruin with their venom. I am not an important person and nobody listens to me.

Our Church is now at five o'clock in the evening. It gives me a lot of time to kill during the day. So I have been visiting various Churches to pray before I go to our little mission in the upper room. It seems as if not as many people can go out after Mass to eat like we used to in the afternoon. Yesterday it was me and just one other man, instead of six or seven or eight people. I hope this does not continue as I rather enjoy the talking after Mass. The more the merrier. Next week I am looking forward to meeting an old friend from Church who has not been there for a while. So I will be happy to see him.

Old Peeps

Today I hung out with Matthew and Andrea. They were friends from before I became ill, co-workers from Barnes and Noble. We talked. They are married now. Talked about people from work, and a little about life, movies, cell phones, books. We did not talk about Church or God which is what I am always thinking about these days. I showed them my two rooms with holy cards and books, but we did not talk about them. I talked about The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings. We talked for a while. I could see us being friends again. They are people. Neither are practicing Catholics. I pretty much only have Church friends. We talked a little about Danica in Los Angeles. Stephanie was mentioned. People from my past. So long ago, but we still could talk. We remember enough.

I don't think Mellonie wants to talk to me anymore. She cut me off from her instagram and did not send me a birthday greeting this year which was our ritual. For a decade we would talk by email three times per year or so, always on her birthday, April 30th, always on my birthday, September 10th and always on Christmas. I must have offended her somehow in a way I do not remember. Maybe I said something bad while having an episode or she was offended by my blog or instagram. So I guess I will not send her a message on Christmas. An old friend lost. Oh well. I will not lose any sleep over it, though I would prefer to remain friends with her as she is my one connection to my university days and as a former lover we have many shared memories and I remember her fondly even though I was very bad to her. I remember her with love. I will not be cutting my wrists or taking too many sleeping pills or drinking myself unconscious.

Karen

Had a good talk with Karen. We talked about the devil. We both have the same diagnosis. She gets visits from God and the devil. I said it is hard to know when the devil comes and when God comes so you have to question everything and pray about it. You don't want to be lead by the wrong spirit.

Terry was talking about girls. He was saying how girls think they are hot stuff and are full of themselves because of social media. I said, well you've got to find a girl in Church. And he said the girls in Church are the same. And I said well if you can't find a girl in the world or a girl in Church, where will you find a girl? God will find one. Well he is new to our chapel, he mostly knows Holy Innocents. He said Marie Therese is nice. She is a Holy Innocents girl. I wonder what he would think about the lovely Helena, her sister, and the beautiful Cecilia. I imagine the best of people I know from Church. But I told him that God has a perfect girl for you, but the devil also has a perfect girl for you and you have to be careful because sometimes you can not tell them apart. And Terry and Barbara thought that was profound and nobody ever said that to either of them before. Is it an original thought? I don't think so. So I told them I already met the devil's perfect girl for me but I did not know who God's perfect girl for me is. I would say Gemma because she is. But she is not a girl for me, she is a saint who died in 1903. But she is perfect for me. For some reason I think about girls even though I am too old and unable to marry because of my condition. I want what I can not have I guess.

Pub

We went to a pub after Mass. Father and Sarah invited me. Five of us. Sarah, the beautiful Cecilia, Patrick, Father, and I. We watched football. I did not talk much. They were all good people.

I did not go out with the normal crowd for coffee. I will go back for coffee next week. I cannot afford 23 dollars every week. I am poor. But it was good to go out with different people. They are good. All of us should be together.

At Church today we had music. The lovely Helena played the organ and we sang two hymns. I really liked the music. I thought I preferred the quiet, but today I preferred the music. Probably because it was played by the lovely Helena. She is just a child, but I look up to her. Father says all she does is study and play the organ. He also said we had the best organist in the SSPX in our chapel. We are lucky to have her.

Crying is good. I can cry. Just a short post.

A Ghost on a String

A Ghost on a String. I think I am alive. But I do not understand the world. I am not wise. I am a fool who knows nothing and lets everyone bleed me until my veins are dry. But I have hope. Despair was a bitter pill, but I do not feel that way right now. When I was in the hospital I thought I was in Limbo and then I thought I had descended into hell and then I escaped. The onion did not break on me. I was there for three weeks. I thought it was one. What did I do in all those times that were erased from my memory? My parents visited me every day. Was I alone? Were all of the other inmates phantasms, imaginary people who did not really exist or were they demons or were they lost souls? Were they all just ghosts on a string? Or were they real? Who is real? I do not even know what I am doing. Reality is something I can not grasp. Everything is enchanted. Are my eyes open or am I blind? The doctor from Cornell was there with all the other lost souls and he said of me that I was the most innocent person there. He could read my soul. Everyone can read my soul. My Father told me that people could smell my naivete. I do not think that is true. I do not think I am naive. S'Blood! But I know enough to know that they can smell it. I can not smell but I have eyes. I do not understand. There were a few people in my life. Should I reach out to them? Does anyone ever think about me? And most of my old friends were (Secret).

I saw Andrea and we had a wonderful time. Laughter is the best medicine (laughter and tears). I never had a lot of friends. Who would want to talk to me now? I have so little experience. I have Church friends. They are good, The older folks are carrying heavy crosses. But there are some who are young. The Lovely Helena should be coming back to New York soon. She is perfect. And Cecilia is so very beautiful. And Marie Therese has the perfect name. I have to get my act together. I am out of the hospital. Now I have to grow up and stop being a child. Hopefully I get work soon or learn how to multiply loaves so I can support myself somehow. I don't have a lot of connections. I don't know people who can get me ahead in life. But I am alive. That is more important than having work.