I Want To Live In Credemore

 There is a big tall building near the parkway that we pass when we go to long island, usually for shopping. It is a tall building and a campus of smaller buildings. It is called Creedmore. It is an insane asylum. Or that is what such places used to be called. Many of them closed down, but I believe this one is still in use for its original purpose. Nowadays most crazy people live with family and are on medications and are outpatients, and most of the rest are homeless, living on the street and being crazy all the time, not having any treatment. They yell at people in the street and beg for money which they spend on food and booze and drugs. And then there are the people in the insane asylums. I believe they closed most of them down. But Creedmore is still there. The thing is I want to live in Creedmore. My parents will not be around forever and I don't see how I would be able to take care of myself without them. Unless my brother takes me in. I could live with him if he would let me. But I want to live in Creedmore.

Away from the world where I could think to myself and be with the sane people. For the people on the inside are more sane than the people in the world. We may think we are Jesus, but we do not think we are women and have the doctors cut off our penises and give us drugs to make us grow breasts or think that those people are okay or even sane. I would not worry about the other crazy people. But there are the nurses and the doctors. I believe many of them are witches and some of them abuse the inmates. In my time in such places, and I have a limited experience of a four visits and a total of about seven weeks, the nurses were kind to me and did not abuse me. I was never struck or abused, but they might be likely to try to get me to sell my soul to the devil. I am not sure which portions of the stay were real and which were imagined. But I do remember there being witches who wanted me to sell my soul to the devil.

The last time I was there I thought I was in limbo, and then I descended into hell, and then when I got home I was happy and was in a little heaven. The world was magical. I had a friend there named Nido who helped me. He was like a teacher. I was grateful for him helping me. But after I left I have not seen him. I learned that I should put four sugars in my Cream of Wheat, not that I would ever eat that outside of a hospital. When I was there I was afraid and I wrote out the Ave Maris Stella and put it on the wall and would sing it to myself as a sign that after it was over I would go home, and then after death, to Mother Mary in heaven.

But the world is crazy now. I do not want to take any vaccine. Some are made from dead babies and some alter your DNA or RNA, or whatever it is that I can not understand. One catalog I got said it would change your DNA so that you are no longer a human. I could even see it being the Mark of the Beast, but Bishop Williamson and the Fatima Fundamentalists think we are not there yet, as they believe there will be a period of peace where Mary reigns and the Church triumphs before the great apostasy and the coming of the antichrist. So as long as the world is like it is I want to live in Creedmore with the sane people. Only the religious fanatics and the schizophrenics live in the real world. They live in the world of the spirits, serving God or the devil, not in the material world, the world of materialism. Who is closer to the truth? The bulemic saint who fasts in honor of the Blessed Mother and has visions of Jesus and Mary and is in the hospital (like K who goes to Mass at our chapel), or the man who works hard for a living, spending his free time watching television and sometimes porn when he has sex with his own hand and spills his seed on his pillow? I would rather be with K.

The only down side about living in Creedmore is that I would not be able to go to my SSPX chapel. (Though K lives in a facility where they let her out on Sundays to go to Mass). I do not think they let you out of Creedmore to go to Mass. I imagine there are Novus Ordo chaplains that serve Creedmore and maybe even sometimes say Mass. But I could call Father S, or whoever the local SSPX priest is when I finally live in Creedmore and ask him to visit me. I would be kind to him and make my confession and receive Communion kneeling and on the tongue. If I were alone in Creedmore I would hope they would let me have a Rosary and some holy books and I would pray unceasingly. I wonder how often he would visit me. I would always pray the Little Office. Creedmore is right off the highway halfway beetween the chapel in Long Island and Manhattan where Father S says Mass for the New Yorkers. So he could visit me in between sometimes. But I would pray the Rosary and the Little Office. And I would talk to the other crazy people. Maybe I could even convert some of them.

They say Ezra Pound lived in an insane asylum after World War II. I guess it was better than prison. Perhaps his lawyers argued that he had to be crazy to support Mussolini. I listen to a podcast by a man who likes Mussolini though he does not like Hitler, but he is a revisionist. He interviews Bishop Williamson who was infamous for a while for denying the supposed massacre of the Jews by Germany. A Christian should not call it by its common name because that name means a perfect sacrifice to God and as we know the true and perfect "holocaust" was Our Lord Jesus Christ on the Cross and there is no other.

So I want to live in Creedmore as long as they do not abuse me, and it would be a treat if they allowed me to be visited by a traditional priest. There is the SSPX and the SSPV and the independent chapel where they have a few priests and a Bishop. I do not trust them, but the others are fine. And there are the Ukranian priests that the sedevacantists like to go to. With the sacraments I could live in Creedmore.

My life now is no different than it would be if I were living in a mental asylum. I have nothing to look forward to, and nothing to mark the time. I have Julian to visit and if I could no longer see him I would lose a friend, but I could meet new friends in Creedmore. And maybe even friends who think that they are Jesus, or John the Baptist. I make food and I eat. I do not think that they would allow me to have a computer in Creedmore, so I would miss that. For some reason in my time in mental hospitals they were big on television, but there were no computers. Which is strange because television is insane, while computers can be used for sane things, at least for now. Who knows, perhaps in a few years the internet will be nothing but insanity and pornography. It is much worse than it was ten years ago, so in ten years, perhaps it will be nothing but a bunch of liberals and Bruce Jenner.

Now I watch shows on Youtube, but half the time the hosts have to censor themselves when discussing anything interesting. There are alternative sites but I do not know which one is best and if they are really any better.

The New World Order wants us all to be slaves and all truth will be banned. Fornication and Sodomy and Onanism a thousand times followed by an eternity of hell. Perhaps it will be Brave New World and not 1984, that has always been my thought. It is easier to make people perverts and have them as willing slaves than to make people afraid and keep them in line with torture.

I want to live in Creedmore. I hope they let me stay. Rather than live in Sodom and Gomorrah my city will soon turn into, only worse, put me in a home where the people are sane, but believe they have magical powers, rather than with the normies who think the Jews are our "elder brothers in the faith". In this world of pain. I want to live in Creedmore. The world is so insane I want nothing to do with normies. It is hard enough living with my boomer normie parents, though my dad is not greedy and takes care of mom and me so he is not as bad as some. But he is a normie boomer.

It was nice when my parents visited me the last time I was in the hospital. When I am in Creedmore, maybe my brother will visit me. My parents would probably be dead before I go there. But it would be nice to be visited by my brother. We could talk about life. Maybe by then he will have a family. I don't think he wants to get married or have children, so he life is as meaningless as mine. But he is still my brother and I love him and he is not a normie.

So maybe in a few years I will be there after mom and dad die. I would rather be there than on the street. As long as they don't torment me or try to make me sell my soul to the devil. I could say my prayers and read books and have a nice life in a little room with a bed and a little desk in the corner.

The Fly

 

Today is Friday. I go to Eucharistic Adoration and Benediction at the local Church. In case Jesus is still there, I go to honor Him. At three I pray the stations in front of the monstrance and then I pray the Rosary. Fifteen decades. There is the fly. The devil comes to bother me for a few moments, buzzing around my ears. I finish praying and go home. At six thirty I go for Benediction. I pray and think and meditate and pray. The fly returns. The devil buzzes around me ears. To and fro, here and there. Just before the ceremony begins, the fly lands on my right hand. I feel him. I do not move. Then the fly goes away, the devil buzzes around my ears. I look at Jesus, if Jesus is still really there. I think He is. Julian does not. Julian once told me that his mother used to go to Benediction and one time she told him that when she looked at the monstrance she did not see the face of Jesus, but instead she saw the face of the devil. I think Jesus is there. But if he is not the devil can not harm me. I am not afraid of the devil. Sometimes I fear God's justice. That I have sinned so much that I cannot be forgiven. But usually I am fine. I pray to Jesus and to Mary and to Gemma.

Being visited by flies as I pray in the Church is a recurring theme. It is never a fly. It is the devil. The Lord of the Flies. He wants to distract me or to make me afraid.

It is something I have been doing since I got out of the hospital. I do not like the Novus Ordo. But I think it is valid. So Jesus is really there. So if I go before Jesus in the tabernacle it is good. And I keep Him company. In the Novus Ordo there are not that many who have the true faith and love Jesus. So I will love Him. But I do not want to go the the Novus Ordo Mass because I think it is bad. So I walk the line. Cross myself as I pass the Church, and genuflect before the tabernacle.

My uncle George is a Russian Orthodox. But he belongs to a strict Church. He is not in Communion with most of the other Churches in Orthodoxy. We went to his granddaughter's baptism at a monastery and he spoke about how he sung at the ceremonies but did not go to Communion because he was not in Communion with the monastery where his granddaughter was baptized. And he thought the schism was getting out of hand and it would be better if all the sects would be in Communion with each other. But not under Rome. It seems all the Orthodox share a distrust of the Pope and Rome.

My uncle's mother just died. She was orthodox. EENS. So she is in hell most likely. I heard on one of the forums that the Orthodox do not have their own version of EENS, so they hold that those outside of orthodoxy might be saved. But they are territorial and prone to schism. Charles Coulombe says that In the West we will accept any amount of heresy but no schism, but in the East they will accept any amount of schism but no heresy. And both halves of what should be the one united Church are meant to be corrective of each other's tendencies. Mithrandylan once said on one of the forums that he used to watch all of Charles Coulombe's lectures with Professor Biersach and he watched hours and hours and he thought they were enlightening, but later on after he became a more knowledgeable Catholic, that he couldn't think of a single important thing he learned from those lectures.

It is the devil. The fly. I do really believe in the devil. I do not want to be a witch but I believe they are real. I do not know what powers witches have, but I think their powers are increased greatly now that there are so few good Christians and so many abortions. As man abandons God, God abandons the people to the witches and the vampires. I do wonder if the end of the world is near. I think it is. But Tom says that the Garabandal warning will come first. But Joey Lomangino died blind. And then the Consecration of Russia and then the period of peace and only then the end of the world. I am not so hopeful. I fear the end is nigh. And the antichrist is here and the mark of the beast is the vaccine or something related to it. I told Tom that I would give him twenty dollars if the Warning happened while we were still alive and together in this valley of tears. The warning. What would you do if you could see the state of your soul as it was before the judgement seat of Jesus Christ? Would you go to confession? Or would you hate God even more. I fear many will hate God even more.

So I am home and tomorrow we are going to the orthodox funeral to pay our respects. In this world of pain. I saw a fly and he landed on my right hand in Church as I was looking at Jesus.

Baby Carriage

 I saw a swallowtail butterfly eating from the fuchsia flowers. She put he strawlike beak into the flower and took it out, and into the next. This one had the yellow, but not the blue and orange eyes on the wings.  watched her eating for a couple of minutes. Then she flew away.

Walking on I saw my old neighbor Ann Margaret. She said hello and walked past and away. She is older and married with grown up children. When I was a child she used to babysit me.

Walking on I saw a black cat walking past my path. I was not afraid. Also, earlier on the walk there was a young woman pushing a baby carriage, but inside the carriage was a gray cat and not a child.

And there were workers in trucks clearing the trees which fell in the storm from the streets.

Simeon

"Listen to me. It is in silence that I speak to souls. Those who flee silence will never hear my voice. Encourage silence and practice it yourself with a renewed dedication, for it is in silence that the Holy Spirit descends, and it is in silence that He works in souls, bringing them to holiness of life, and to the perfection that I desire for each one."

So I finished reading my book, In Sinu Jesu. It was a nice read. I will read it again. It was not the best book I have ever read. The main point of the book was that Jesus likes it when we go to pray before the Blessed Sacrament and that if more people do so with love, the Church will grow strong again. I wish there were more to it, a journal of around 260 pages, but it was comforting to read.

In these times of peace and of calamity I am feeling well for myself. Because of my family I have peace. Without them I would be sad. But none of them listen to me. I am the only believer (well my mother believes a somewhat but not as crazily as I do). Often I think to myself that I am alone. I am the only person I know who wants to love God, and everyone else in my life is a devil worshiper. And I am probably a devil worshiper myself, but am fooling myself. I don't know. But nobody listens to me.

I do not understand why the Novus Ordo exists. I wish it would be wiped off the face of the earth. It is like drinking poison that does not taste good. I consider it valid. But not in a good way. Valid as if a priest walked in to a bakery and pronounced the words of consecration over the bread there and then walked home. Some may say it must be good because it comes from the Church. I don't know. Perhaps Julian is right and it is just bread, or even the body of the devil.

"It's good to be inspired by the saints and by others. Sometimes it's good to imitate some of their actions or devotions. But you are not them, you are you. You are called to be holy in a way no one else is, even if certain things are similar."

This is a quote from a Catholic twitter personality. It reminds me of Saint Simeon Stylites who lived as a hermit atop a pillar and was later copied by other hermits. Imagine walking from one city to the next and seeing three Catholic hermits living on top of pillars, spending their lives in prayer and loving God until they were struck by lightning.

So am I fooling myself? Am I a fool. I want to be good. Am I beyond redemption? Is it too late? I know I have done bad. But am I beyond salvation? Am I alive? Or am I dead, being a corpse who only thinks he is alive, but is being animated by necromancy beyond all hope of redemption? Am I a zombie. I don't know. Cry? When crazy I remember I thought I was a vampire and that my parents had turned me into a vampire. Imagine thinking that while being schizo. I have crazy fits sometimes.

I was disappointed today (Saturday). I went to the local Church for Eucharistic Adoration, but it was not to be. Instead they had the vigil Novus Ordo, which I do not like. I must call the office to see when they have EA and benediction now which I love. I would be happy if I had a traditional Mass, daily, with benediction every night. But I am happy enough.

Today is Sunday (I started writing this yesterday) Went to the indult with mom. A high Mass. I saw some people I knew but did not speak to them today. Mom lit a lot of candles. I hope our SSPX Mass comes back soon in our little rented room.

I decided to stop praying the Rosary in Latin, and go on praying it in English. It seems more humble that way. I should be littler.

Just because I love her, this is my favorite Holy Card. Last year I printed out ten of them and gave them to friends from Church and my brother.

Mockingbird

A few days ago I was out on my walk, near the house owned by the witch and the pirate. The house has a beautiful garden and the woman who keeps the garden looks like a witch and her husband looks like a pirate with tattoos. They have a daughter who is in her twenties. There are so many rose bushes of different colors and other flowers. It is a beautiful garden. Well the other day as I was walking a bird flew near my head and then pulled up right before hitting my head. I felt the wind from his wings on the back of my neck. I looked up and it was a mockingbird. Strange.

Today, a few minutes ago I was on the same walk (almost every day I go on the same two walks, first, to 102nd street, and second, to Atlantic Avenue) and again a mockingbird flew right at my head. It was almost attacking me, dive bombing me and pulling up right before hitting my head. A warning. It did so three or four times, a mockingbird. There were two of them. So they must have a nest somewhere near the witches' garden and they were protecting the eggs from me. It is by the sidewalk where many people walk, so I wonder if the mockingbirds are always attacking the pedestrians and if they attack the witch and the pirate when they are in their garden.

My father told me the other day that a family they knew who owned a house at Fire Island let a young writer live in their house for one summer so that she could have free time to write a book. Her name was Harper Lee. The book she wrote was To Kill A Mockingbird, the famous novel they make everyone read in school.

So the mockingbirds attack me on my walk. If this continues I may have to change the route of my walk, and not go past the beautiful garden but walk across the street.

I got an email from one of my blog's readers that was very nice. I worry that people will not like my blog. I have a few readers. It is hard to tell how many from the stats but it is not a lot. You are la creme de la creme. An exclusive club.

Still praying the Office of the Dead for someone. It feels like I do not pray at all. I have my little prayers and then I go for my walks and make dinner. It is not exhausting at all. I am happy. That seems to be the common theme of my blog, how happy I am. I am fortunate, for now. The future may be bleak. Since I last got out of the hospital I have been praying a lot. And I have been happy. When I first became religious I started praying the fifteen decades of the Rosary every day and since then I missed only one day in so many years. But for a long time I did not always pray more, now I pray more. If is a good way to relieve stress and advance contentment. I do not always say my prayers in the most devout way. When I pray the Rosary because my mind is broken I can not meditate as that function of my mind is out of order, but I say all the words. Usually in Latin, but sometimes in English. And at three I pray the stations, I have fourteen different ones that I pray, a different one each day. Perhaps I should stick to one until I memorize it. And I look at my holy pictures. And I look at Jesus' house and now on Saturdays at Jesus. I wish you happiness and peace.

The common birds in my area are rock doves, mourning doves, sparrows, starlings, mockingbirds, robins, and blue Jays. Sometimes I see cardinals, on rare occasion woodpeckers, and sometimes, lately at least, orange orioles. There is also a family of peregrine falcons. They like to sit on the local Church's steeple. Sometimes various gulls come here from the seashore. I live on Long Island, but not close to the sea, but sometimes the gulls come inland to where I live. Those are all the common birds I see in my neighborhood. Oh yes, on the other side of the Avenue and to the East there are grackles also. I rarely see other birds at all. I love birds. Few things are as beautiful as a bird on the wing, and it is rare for man-made music to reach the heights of the music of the birds. Even simple calls are wonderful. I do not think most people have eyes to see or ears to hear and that is part of why everyone is so miserable. Because they are blind because they do not have God in their souls. My neighbor Elvia is a Catholic. She told me she is happy because she has God in her heart. I hope it is true.

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.

Hotel California

The devil was attacking me this morning. As I awoke, the Eagles song Hotel California was in my head and stayed there for a little bit. I thought it must be the devil.

Saint Valentine's Day

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

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

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