Physiognomy

One of the things I have been thinking about which is strange, is physiognomy. The idea that you can tell things about the morality of the soul by a person's appearance. I think about such things a lot. It would be interesting to learn about physiognomy from a Catholic perspective, if there are any works on that available. It sounds like something that would be hidden by modern people in the Church. Such a work would exist but is only available in Italian or Latin and is not translated. All I know about the idea is that Professor Plinio supposedly claimed to be able to tell if a person was in the state of sanctifying grace or in mortal sin by looking at their eyes. And I have seen Tradition In Action posts which speak of such things, comparing the calm, serene appearance of saints, to the twisted, ugly appearance (ugly as sin) of non-Christians. Famously they insulted the appearance as evil looking of a pair of gypsy girls in an old photograph like you could see their greed and perversions even as children. But when I look at people most of them just look evil to me. The most common example of this is the idea that you can tell if a person is homosexual simply by looking at them, their eyes, and their mannerisms. They are stained by sin. Like Whitman wrote about the grey faces of the onanists. And there is the idea that promiscuous women have dead wicked eyes like sharks.

So that is my theory as to why most grown-ups re ugly. Children are born beautiful. Most young children are cute and only after they grow up do they become ugly. The thing about growing up is not that bigger people are more attractive but that when innocence is lost and they are introduced into the world of sin, the devils in their hearts come, slowly, after time, to manifest in their appearance.

When I walk around and see people, I assume nearly everyone is in the state of mortal sin. Because only children and devout Catholics can be otherwise. We know from polls, unless they are lying, that most people who claim to be Catholic approve of mortal sins like contraception and masturbation and fornication and even many, abortion, so most of them are lacking the grace of the Holy Ghost. And non-Catholics have no hope once the innocence of childhood is lost. They look it. Everyone is twisted and ugly. And even the people who are not physically ugly have evil eyes.

Some of the people I know from my traditional Church look otherwise. Many of them look beautiful and look like they are innocent and pure. Not all, but the ratio is higher there than anywhere else I have been in the city, among adults. But when I go to the indult, as I am now as it is better than no Church at all. For some reason many of the people look different. They do not look beautiful. Some of the servers look evil. The priest looks somewhere in the middle. But there are a few who go there who also look innocent and beautiful. I wonder if there is anything real about this or if it is all my delusions. But I can't wait until I get to go back to my traditional Church. Anthony in particular who goes there sometimes, and other times to the Chapel in Long Island, is the most beautiful looking older man that I know. He looks so pious and even saintly. Often he hands out holy cards to us and he seems kind. 

When I look at myself in the mirror I think I look beautiful enough. My eyes, my face. I do not think I look ugly or wicked even though I am getting older. Perhaps that is pride.

I wish there were more old pictures of saints so I could look at them and examine their faces and appearance. Many of the older saints look holy to me. Two in particular are my Gemma, and Pope Pius X. Also, pictures of the Little Flower while she was in her Carmel and her Father was very handsome, even though he was bald. It would make sense that the people with beautiful souls would also in time have beautiful faces because of the indwelling of the Holy Ghost. They come to look even as the angels in heaven look. But this must not be always the case.

Of modern people, as I have mentioned before, Bishop Schneider looks beautiful and holy to me, which might offend those who thing he is a false shepherd trying to devour the traditionalists. Mother Teresa looked evil to me and ugly. In some pictures, Pope Benedict looked downright evil to me, and in others he looked like a pious old man. Francis doesn't look particularly evil, but he does not look good either. Of secular figures, Governor Cuomo is remarkably ugly as his policies are sinful. Something about his eyes and the folds in his face speak of Moloch and Mammon. Pelosi is the obvious one, though she is older so it is normal to think she would be ugly. 

There is a thing about women. And I have changed. I find most women to be ugly, because I feel that I Can see their sins. They may look seductive, but if they are perverted, I can see their sins and they look ugly to me. I think that what many people call the wall, is the point where in a woman's life, the effect of her sinfulness and promiscuity overcomes her natural beauty and makes her ugly on the outside as she is on the inside.

By I am speaking strange things. The holiest looking woman I have ever met in real life is an old woman from Church named Cora. She is in her late seventies but when I used to see her, she moved away, it was remarkable how beautiful she was, more so than any old lady I have ever known. She was also very pious, so much so that people thought she was crazy. Pray for her, poor Cora. 

But now that everyone gets perverted, fornicating and masturbating and sodomizing at younger and younger ages, I think that soon, most children will come to be ugly as the adults are. More and more will become wicked-looking at a younger and younger age, until it will be rare for an older child to be anything but ugly and wicked. I am a pessimist for this earth, but not for heaven. All the saints are beautiful there.

This was the first thing that happened to me when I became schizo. I felt that I could see people's sins and it was frightening. It comes and goes. It is strong lately. I sill still go to Church at the indult I think, even though the people there are not as beautiful as those in my traditional Church which is shut down for now. I believe the sacraments are real, so Jesus is there. And they don't have Communion in the hand, though they do also say the Novus Ordo there.

All mourning doves are beautiful, but people are either ugly or beautiful, mostly ugly. Some start out uglier and others more beautiful, but over time, the influence of the devils or the Holy Ghost come to fashion the body and the soul into beautiful or ugly tabernacles. Children of God or children of the devil, for those who have eyes to see. I feel I can see, but I am crazy, I am deluded. Or it is a gift. Maybe one can not trust appearances. 

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.

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.

Lust

For some reason I am not often drawn to lust any more. I don't know if this is normal. I am now thirty eight years old. I became religious when I was twenty six. Then I started fighting temptations to lust instead of entertaining them. Now it is no longer an issue. I am not sure why. I could say, my mental condition and the medicine I take could contribute to it. The lack of practice. Addictions are easier to avoid as time goes on. When one breaks a habit. But I wonder because I see people who are always fighting such temptations and even see things such as a story of a young priest asking an old priest when the temptations to desire young women will end and the old priest tells the young one "I will tell you when they end if that ever happens." I still love women, but for some reason I do not lust after them or think of them in a lustful way.

I say this because while I was waiting for the pizza man to give me my pizza I saw a young black woman wearing a face mask who had a nice looking body and I was drawn a little bit towards the beginning of a temptation towards lust. She was wearing a dress and had slippers on her feet and was gabbing on the telephone. It was surprising because it does not often happen to me anymore so I noted it. Then I got my pizza and went home. Our family had pizza for dinner tonight as we do every Friday.

But there is a person who seems to have problems with lust. He can not get his head around the idea of Christian purity considering how man is naturally inclined to lust. As if God could not demand purity if he creates us with base instincts that make purity difficult. And the idea that procreation is necessary for the perpetuation of the human race contradicts this for him. He once admitted to being addicted to lust and masturbation, even joining some sort of masturbators anonymous, or perhaps it was sex addicts anonymous, based on AA, where he went to meetings and they talk about their addictions to sins of lust in hopes of overcoming them. This program is not religious but is secular. I guess it is like "no-fap". The person is not a Catholic, though he has tried various forms of Christianity including Catholicism in the past. I could advise him if he were interested. I wonder if in his time in Catholicism, if he ever had the true faith (the Christian beliefs he expressed in the time I knew him were not orthodox Catholic ones) and if he did if he was ever able to stay in the state of grace for a prolonged period of time, or if he was one of those Catholics who goes from week to week, always confessing and always falling back into the same sins soon after, in this case lust. I imagine he was one of these. He does not seem like the type to live in sin and not receive the sacraments at all, or worse, to live in sin but still take Communion. But it is interesting seeing him try to think about religion and God in his state. I wonder if his mind is clouded by his sins which keep him far from God or if God is near him in spite of his sins. We are not friends and have never interacted much, though I did rebuke him once for his beliefs, but I see him talking sometimes and sometimes think of him. He seems like he is politically correct, as far as Christians go, and not a right-wing "nutter." Peace be upon him. In talking about him I do not want to seem like I am looking down on him or am better than him, only that I do not habitually fall into the same sins that he fall into, by the grace of God. Who knows, hopefully he does not anymore either, and has overcome such urges, though I believe he is not now Catholic so he presumably does not have the grace of God, not being invincibly ignorant, if such exemptions do exist.

I don't know. I have a friend from Church who I will not name who told me he struggles with looking at pornography and masturbating, so I told him about the Three Hail Marys devotion for purity. He started praying it, but I have not seen him during this lock-down so I do not know how his struggle is going. I imagine if he is of good will it is going well as the devotion helped me very much and I imagine the Blessed Mother is giving her Christians extra graces to avoid sin now that confession is not easily available because of the lock-down. I am glad this vice is easy for me to avoid as it seems to cause so much trouble in the world and it is good because as an imbecile I do not and will never be able to have a lawful outlet for feelings of lust in a wife (though it is also a sin to lust after one's own wife, but they say it can help assuage concupiscence). I know that the world pushes all sorts of lust at us all the time and wants us to indulge in them so that we will be surely be damned. But I wonder how frequent it is for Catholics to fall into such sins. Am I uncommon in not often falling in to them? Or am I normal? I see that I could more easily fall into sins of drunkenness than into lust, but how goes everyone else? I have no idea. I imagine most of my friends from Church and the Christians I know on the computer are relatively pure and pious. But there are rumors and stories of impurity being everywhere, outside of my bedroom, even in the Church where I imagine things and persons are relatively pure of heart.

Weakness

So there is some sort of controversy. Michael Voris's outfit have accused the SSPX of sexual improprieties. I hope the SSPX priests are innocent.

But about weakness. I can imagine for many priests life is difficult when one is celibate. I am celibate so I understand. I have no wife and am alone. For me it is very easy. I can't explain why other than I started praying for graces after my conversion and the temptations went away, and I got older. But it is easy. But I understand for many men it is difficult. Looking at a young woman, it is natural to desire being with her. And for a priest that is forbidden. They say at times in the past, many priests had concubines. I am forgiving of affairs with women. Men are weak especially when they are stressed or lonely.

But homosexuality is another matter. Especially with young boys. I was never a homosexual. It is baffling to me. I imagine the condition exists because the devil tells men to do such things and influences them, knowing that it would be displeasing to the good God.

But with women it is understandable to me as a natural desire.

I like girls. Some of them are beautiful. The good ones. And even some of the bad ones look nice even though you can see the sin in their eyes. The sin in their eyes.

P.S. I think Voris is a joke. The more you know. But I also think all the trad for profit industries are a joke. And the "grifters" are a joke. Evangelization for $9.99 a month! Join our Patreon! I have more respect for the pornographers. Well maybe that is a bit much.

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.

Bleeding From The Next

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain (And The Snow)

My father drove my mother and I to a local Church where they have the Stations of the Cross outside for people to pray. We got there a little after three. We were alone. I prayed with my mother, my father wandered around. We prayed the Stations from the Angelus Press Missal, which I think are really nice, my favorite of the ones I own. At St. Benny's they actually have a modern Stations written by Pope John Paul II which I thought were really good, but I do not have that one at home. It was cold and very windy. The wind blew my book around and made it hard to keep the page. Then halfway through it started snowing and I tried to cover the book to keep it from getting ruined. The snow let up after a few stations. Then it was over and we went to sit at the Lourdes Grotto for a few minutes. A pious woman put a holy card of the Little Flower on the wall of the grotto.

I thought there might be people praying at the stations for Good Friday at three O'clock, but there were none. There were two people on the grounds but they left soon after we got there.

I would do it again. I think that Holy Innocents is opening up again on Wednesday with Jesus in the monstrance, so I think I will go there on Friday. Hopefully they will have Benediction.

Michael and the girl have been here since March 18th. Over three weeks. We still get along. I don't talk to the girl much. She says "thank you" a lot. She is French and English is a second language to her. She teaches Americans French for a living.

Aurora is still living and eating fish flakes twice a day.

Just wanted to say again that I do not trust sedevacantist priests. Though I have some friends who are laymen who I like and hope are not schismatic. Angry Tom and Julian and also Ben and Nick.

So we prayed today for Good Friday. I did not have pizza tonight. I had fish sticks and french fries. Adieu.

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.

Three Hail Marys

Of all of the prayers I pray, there is one devotion that seems to me to be more powerful than all the others. It is not praying the Rosary, but a little devotion.

I remember one day when I was new at Church, a man named Andre, who moved away years ago, gave me a little prayer card. On the front it had a black and white picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Help with bejeweled crowns of gold on the heads of the Baby Jesus and Mother Mary.

And on the back it described a devotion.

Every morning you should pray three Hail Marys as soon as you rise from bed. And after each Hail Mary, you should recite the prayer: "By thy holy and immaculate conception, O Mary, make my body pure and my soul holy. O my mother, preserve me this day from mortal sin."

Every evening you should pray three Hail Marys right before you retire to go to bed. And after each Hail Mary, you should recite the similar prayer: "By thy holy and immaculate conception, O Mary, make my body pure and my soul holy. O my mother, preserve me this night from mortal sin."

Like with many devotions, this prayer card came with a promise of salvation for those who faithfully recite the prayers every morning and every night until death, or perhaps, senility.

I think this is a powerful prayer because I used to be tempted with sins of impurity like many young men, but when I took up this devotion these temptations went away and I had peace ever after. I am like a quiet man on an island who grows enough food to survive, has a clean source of water, and good friends who come once a month to give me all I need to survive. I have a peaceful happy life.

But I was thinking about this powerful devotion because there is a man who I was talking to after Church. He told me he suffered from temptations against purity and sometimes fell into sin. Namely, he spoke of pornography. This is a difficult sin. I remember when I first tried to give up sins of impurity the devils had their claws in me and tempted me terribly. It was far more difficult than quitting cigarettes, which was hard, or cutting down on drinking beer, which was relatively easy. There was even one time where I felt my body compelled to commit an act of impurity against my will as if the devils were controlling my body but, my will resisted and I did not consent. They say there are monks who left the world and even after decades of fasting in the desert, they were still tempted by fornication. I am fortunate that I no longer suffer from such temptations and I hope they do not return. I think this devotion the the Blessed Virgin Mary is the reason.

But I will write down this devotion on a little card and give it to my friend and tell him that it helped me avoid the temptations he is struggling with. I hope it helps him too. He must trust me because he told me about such an embarrassing sin.

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!

Saint Vitalius

I found out about this desert monk via Catholic Twitter. Someone asked if this was a true story, or if it was made up by Dostoyevsky. I have another monk to venerate now, with one of my favorite stories.

https://www.oca.org/saints/lives/2016/04/22/101183-venerable-vitalius-of-gaza

Venerable Vitalius of Gaza

Saint Vitalius, a monk of the monastery of Saint Seridus, arrived in Alexandria when Saint John the Merciful (November 12) was Patriarch of Alexandria.

When he was sixty years old, undertook an extraordinary task: he wrote down from memory the names of all the prostitutes of Alexandria and he began to pray for them. He worked from morning to evening, earning twelve copper coins each day. In the evening the saint bought a single bean, which he ate after sunset. Then he would give the rest of the money to one of the harlots, whom he visited at night and said, “I beg you, take this money and do not sin with anyone tonight.” Then he stayed with the harlot in her room. While she slept, the Elder spent the whole night at prayer, reading the Psalms, and quietly left in the morning.

He did this each day, visiting all the harlots in turn, and he made them promise to keep the purpose of his visit secret. The people of Alexandria, not knowing the truth, became indignant over the the monk’s behavior, and they reviled him. However, he meekly endured their scorn, and he only asked that they not judge others.

The holy prayers of Saint Vitalius saved many fallen women. Some of them went to a monastery, others got married, and others found respectable work. But they were forbidden to tell anyone the reason why they had changed their life, and thereby stop the abuse heaped upon Saint Vitalius. They were bound by an oath they had made to the saint. When one of the women began to break her oath and stood up to defend the saint, she fell into a demonic frenzy. After this, the people of Alexandria had no doubt concerning the sinfulness of the monk.

Certain of the clergy, scandalized by the behavior of Saint Vitalius, reported him to the holy Patriarch John the Merciful. But the Patriarch did not believe the informers and he said, “Cease to judge, especially monks. Don’t you know what happened at the First Council of Nicea? Some of the bishops and the clergy brought letters of denunciation against each other to the emperor Saint Constantine the Great (May 21). He commanded that a burning candle be brought, and not even reading the letters, he burned them and said, ‘If I had seen with my own eyes a bishop sinning, or a priest, or a monk, then I would have veiled such with his garb, so that no one might see his sin.’” Thus the wise hierarch shamed the calumniators.

Saint Vitalius continued on with his difficult exploit: appearing himself before people under the guise of a sinner and a prodigal, he led the prodigal to repentance.

One time, emerging from an house of ill repute, the monk encountered a young man going there -- a prodigal fellow, who with an insult struck him on the cheek and cried out, that the monk was a disgrace to the Name of Christ. The monk answered him: “Believe me, that after me, humble man that I be, thou also shalt receive such a blow on the cheek, that will have all Alexandria thronging to thine cry”.

A certain while afterwards Saint Vitalius settled into a small cell and in it at night he died. At that very hour a terrifying demon appeared before the youth who had struck the saint, and the demon struck the youth on the cheek and cried out: “Here is a knock from Saint Vitalius.” The youth went into a demonic madness. In a frenzy he thrashed about on the ground, tore the clothing from himself and howled so loudly, that a multitude of people gathered.

When the youth finally came to his senses after several hours, he then rushed off to the cell of the monk, calling out: “Have mercy on me, O servant of God, for I have sinned against thee.” At the door of the cell he came fully to his senses and he told those gathered there about his former encounter with Saint Vitalius. Then the youth knocked on the door of the cell, but he received no answer. When they broke in the door, they then saw that the monk was dead, on his knees before an icon. In his hand was a scroll with the words: “Men of Alexandria, judge not beforehand, til cometh the Lord, the Righteous Judge”.

At this moment there came up the demon-possessed woman, punished by the monk for wanting to violate the secret of his exploit. Having touched the body of the saint, she was healed and told the people about everything that had happened with her.

When the women who had been saved by Saint Vitalius learned about his death, they gathered together and told everyone about the virtues and mercy of the saint.

Saint John the Merciful also rejoiced, in that he had not believed the calumniators, and that a righteous man had not been condemned. And then together with the throng of repentant women, converted by Saint Vitalius, the holy Patriarch solemnly conveyed his remains throughout all the city and gave them reverent burial. And from that time many of the Alexandrian people made themselves a promise to judge no one.

Fasting Again

I am fasting again. So far it is going well. I will be fasting until Easter. The plan is to eat one meal a day at night, usually rice and lentils with an egg except for Friday and Sunday. Preferably no meat, but some dairy. I have been at it for a week and five days and I have lost five pounds. In my experience I should lose two pounds a week until I stop. The last time I did this I got so skinny everyone told me I was too skinny, so now I plan on not going too far. I was a glutton since I got free last time so now I want to tighten my belt. I have no wife to please. It is for myself and I guess for God. To have a strong will and not be a glutton. Eating is not ugly like sex, but too much is too much. I think that any eating above and beyond the level of sustenance and hospitality must be a form of gluttony, however mild. When people are starving in Africa so they say, how dare you feast on fried fish and chips or mutton. I bought another bag of lentils today.

I have been drinking coffee. More than I should because I am not eating. The plan is to cut it down to just a little. And I have been drinking diet soda which I also want to cut down if not eliminate. I will be having beer on Fat Tuesday but otherwise I will not be drinking any wine or beer. My father got a bottle of rum from work and I am the only drinker in the house, but that is too much. I will not be mixing rum with my diet sodas while I am fasting.

So far I have been having a little bit of food outside of my one meal. Today I had a small piece of cake, and on other days I have had some bread. But the hunger pains are going away. For some reason the more I eat, the more hungry I get. And now less than two weeks into fasting the hunger has gone away. The demons of my belly must be afraid of me or something.

The demons of the belly. The devils haven't bothered me much lately except that soon after I got out of the hospital I had strange temptations for a while which I discovered were from the devils and they have left me since they were discovered. The devils work in funny ways. Demons of alcohol are strong, but they do not last very long for me. Demons of tobacco were stronger but they only lasted for a week or so. Demons of sexuality are the strongest and they fought really really hard against me. But now I only face common demons of food and drink and normal living. My fasting is to fight these common demons. I still have the demons of coffee and diet soda. I plan on getting rid of the diet soda demons. And the coffee demons need to be put in their place. But can one conquer the demons completely and live a life of no sensuality at all when none of one's actions are influenced by the demons. They say that when people willingly sin the demons do not bother them but when one tries to stop sinning then the demons come out in force and fight really really hard to maintain control.

I am a common person who is feeble-minded. But I want to be good. I have been so bad. But now I want to be good. I do not want to be a plaything of the demons any longer. Their favorite corn-cob pipe.

I sometimes have desires to take up smoking again. My preference would be out of a corn-cob pipe because as a youth when I was a new smoker it gave me more pleasure than smoking in any other way. I would take the smoke into my mouth taste it with my tongue like good whiskey, and then blow it out of my mouth. My mouth would absorb the smoke and the nicotine and it would make me feel very very happy. It was a happy drug. Other methods of tobacco usage were addictive but they did not give me the same pleasure. So if I took up the vice again it would be in that way. But if I ever did that my parents would get angry and it would be introducing the old demons into my life, the tobacco demons. I used to roll really good cigarettes. After the corn-cob pipe, I preferred hand-rolled cigarettes without filters, that I would roll and smoke like candy. I may get lung cancer even after quitting. And if I bought a pack it would be Kamel Reds or some other variety of Camels. Cohiba cigarettes were better but I only smoked them once because at the time I smoked they were illegal in America. But that is another form of gluttony. It must be a vice.

So pray for me that I kick the demons of diet soda and coffee to the dust and live demon free. I am doing well for a schizophrenic out of the hospital. There is no demon fire in me like there once was so long ago. I have peace even though my life is meaningless in the eyes of the world and I am alone without a wife. Girls are so very beautiful to me even though I am no longer as much of a slave to the demons of lust as I used to be. There are some saints who never looked at a woman's face in their entire lives, even their mother's for the sake of modesty. I am not like that. I look at women's faces and adore their beauty. There are paintings of beautiful women in Churches. Are they not meant to be looked at?

For what it's worth I have been writing about demons. Fasting to fight them. I wish I were pure of heart.

Hopeless

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

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

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

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

Betrothal

I witnessed something new today, something I did not know about. A young man and woman, both of whom sing in the mixed choir that we have had often for the past few months, and neither of whose names I remember, are going to get married. And after Mass today they were betrothed. The priest went through a little ceremony and blessed them. Nothing was announced about this beforehand, though the priest did announce the Blessed Sacrament would be on the altar after Mass because he was making a sick call, it just happened after Mass. The man, the woman, the Lovely Helena and her sister Olivia had little cards with the prayers on them and Father blessed them.

A betrothal is a promise to get married, more solemn than an engagement. I do not know what the consequences of breaking the betrothal are, perhaps it is considered a sin without grave reason, while a normal engagement can be broken off with less reason.

The beautiful Cecilia is so very beautiful. I am afraid of her. Today she was wearing a dark red velvet dress, feminine and modest enough, but gorgeous. It is hard not looking at her. She has chestnut brown hair which she wears down long and curled at the ends. After Mass today I was distracted and wanted to just look at her beauty. I did not, I only glanced at her a few times. Father made a sick call so the Blessed Sacrament was on the altar for a while after Mass, a long while, as we all kneeled, I sat, and prayed.

When Mass is over and they blow out the candles, the beautiful Cecilia helps take down the altar and put the things away and when she does I admit I like to wait and look at her moving from side to side as she does not notice me. Angry Tom once saw me looking at the beautiful Cecilia as she was walking away and he asked me why I don't go after her. I once told him that I was afraid if her and he asked why and I said because she was so very beautiful.

We have a new refugee coming to Mass. A pious older black woman who held a crucifix with a St. Benedict Medal on it and prayed throughout Mass. I said hello to her. She comes from Our Lady of La Salette. She had the article I read from the Queens Chronicle and after reading it she no longer wants to go there because of the scandal. I would expect more people to come as we are in the same city, and as far as theology is concerned we are the closest to them in the area. But so far she is the only one. I went there once for Ash Wednesday. I just hope what supposedly happened there is not common.

But the beautiful Cecilia is so very beautiful. I wonder what kind of person she is. If she is pious and chaste and not a hypocrite she would be so very beautiful as to be extraordinary. What is she doing here with us grievous sinners in the city of Sodom? She should be in the country married with children far away from the flood of sins that surrounds us here. But if I was not broken and had a decent job and I was young I would want to marry Cecilia, but I would be afraid to ever talk to her as I am now. I would think that she was too good for me, even if I were young and not mentally crippled, But now I can see her at Mass gracefully gliding back and forth or sitting or kneeling quietly. I do not even know the color of her eyes. I have seen them for a moment at a time, but I have never stared into them out of fear, so I forget the color. Were they olive green or brown or grey? They were not blue. Beauty and youth. I hope they are green like my own eyes are green.

I am liking my new routine of going in to the city early to pray on Sunday. Mass now is not until 5 PM. I saw most of vespers at Holy Innocents and then I went to Our Saviour and then to the upper room for Mass. I said all my prayers. I even got to be blessed at benediction. It was an ideal day and I hope to make it the model of every Sunday. Some may think it bad to go to other Churches that are not traditional, but I think it is fine now because I think they are valid and Jesus is really there. I do not go to the Novus Ordo for Mass, but I can look at Jesus and say prayers there without affirming the goodness of the Novus Ordo. Even angry Tom goes there and he is a sedevacantist, so it should be fine for me as well. I am content.

Even though I try to be chaste and not a pervert, I can not get over my love for women. The attraction is still there even though I am older. I admire beauty even though I do not want to sin over it anymore.

What Is Love?

What is love really? I don't know. A man is meant to love women. Mother first, then wife. I think it is easier for a man to love the Blessed Mother or a female saint than it is for him to love Jesus or a male saint. Perhaps it is just me.

My favorite saint is a woman who I think was very beautiful. I like looking at pictures of her and praying to her. She is my sweet love. I hope to one day be with her in the after life. As a saint she is in heaven and as I love her I know she loves me, only more as she is perfect and with God in love and glory. I imagine saints love the poor souls on earth who pray to them. And the more one prays to the saint, the more the saint loves the poor soul. I pray to her a lot and like thinking about her. I read books about her life and the things she did and how she was a good woman and suffered for Jesus. I love her and she loves me also and I hope to meet her when I die. It is a strange thing to love a woman who one has never met and who died so long before one was born.

I also love a woman who is alive. I do not talk to her but I know she is alive. She knows I am alive. I do not talk to her much. I do not think she cares for me much, as I care for her. The same as with my saint, I hope to be together with this woman in the afterlife as we will not be together in this valley of tears. It is not lust. I think I have learned the difference. But I am not a high-value man according to the world, not having money, or now, even youth. She is not like me, a crazy pious recluse, not that she is successful herself. We are both dysfunctional, me more so than her in some ways, she more than I in other ways. I pray for her as I do for my friend. If my prayers have any value before the throne of God.

Today I went to the Church south of Atlantic avenue and I saw and heard the grackles. I heard their call, even while I was in Church. They were hanging out with starlings. Some black chested, some brown chested. One was eating bread on the telephone wire. It held the bread in its beak and did not swallow it. Then I walked closer and all the birds flew away. I know their call. They are not crows as I thought they were at first, knowing nothing of birds at all.

So, pray for me, my sweet love, my greatest love. And pray for my other love, my living love, and perhaps we will all meet and be together in the end as I hope. My mood is peaceful. But not completely. I am still in this world of sorrow.

Bad News

Back from Church. Got bad news from the Queens Chronicle and the New York Post.

We were counting the number of Churches in New York City that have Latin Masses on Sunday and we counted seven. Holy Innocents, Our Lady of Peace, Our Lady of Mount Carmel, St. Josaphat, St. Agnes, St. Christopher, and Our Lady of La Salette.

Our Lady of La Salette has a Bishop and two priests. The papers say the Bishop was just accused of sexual assault against a twelve year old boy. They are independent with orders from a vagante Bishop, possibly of the Thuc line, but they are not sedevacantists. I went to their Church on Ash Wednesday, I believe three years ago. Tom was just talking about their Church and how he wanted to go there with me some Thursday. Now I do not want to go and I wonder if the Church will still have services there if the Bishop is in prison. Perhaps there will be a lawsuit and the remaining two priests will have to sell the Church building. Or perhaps the two priests will carry on. I imagine they will lose parishioners. When I went there, there were many beautiful hispanic women. Why is it always a boy and not a young woman? At least with a woman it would be more natural.

 https://nypost.com/2019/12/06/bayside-bishop-accused-of-sexually-abusing-12-year-old-boy/

Small world. I am not condemning him yet, as he might not be guilty. But this does not look good. There was another Bishop of the Thuc line who was accused of a similar crime whose Masses Julian used to go to and he swore he was innocent. We live in a dirty world. We all know there are issues with the Catholic Church and traditionalists are not free from such sickness. Everyone knows of the infamous seminarian who had a cult of personality going in La Reja and then in Winona who left and went on to found a small traditionalist society of homosexuals in lace.

Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold.

But it was good to talk to friends after Mass. I told Tom how whenever Cecilia sits next to me or in front of me I get distracted during Mass because she is so beautiful. She sat next to me today. Tom has cancer. We hope he is not dying.

I got my books back. Jan saved them for me. I am looking forward to Christmas. Only ten days. Things will be learned. I do not want many presents. My brother is buying me a book.

When I am not thinking of dark things the world is beautiful. But there is so much ugliness. My mother showed me the article in the Chronicle and there was a picture and she asked me if that was the Church we went to one time? Yes, it was.

What does it even mean to be a Catholic? Danica says she grew up as a strict Catholic. Then she had her troubles and now she no longer goes to Church regularly and one could say she is a sinner. I grew up lax Catholic and left religion altogether. And then I started to believe and became a traditional Catholic (strict and "crazy"). When I was twenty-six. I was so sorry for all of my sins. Unforgivable, but then I was forgiven. Or so I believe. The feelings of guilt left me. Now I feel innocent. After the demons went away for a while. But what does it mean? For me it is like living like a child. I am a child. I want to be innocent. Like I was when I was a boy getting ice cream from Joe the ice cream man. Creamsicles. In the hospital I loved it when my mother brought me ice cream. I am not an unhappy rigorist who secretly wishes to be a libertine but is afraid of doing his own will for fear of punishment from an angry God. My will is to have a nice peaceful life trying to obey God's commandments, or the commandments that I believe come from God. I want to go to Mass, receive Commnunion, and go to Churches when I can, especially for Adoration and Benediction, which I am lucky to have near me two days a week. If I were to travel into the City I could attend it every day, but it would be unwise to spend the money on subway fare as my family has need of it. But I avoid the Novus Ordo for the most part, but not entirely. I want to look at the consecrated host and talk to God, or at least imagine that I am talking to Him. I do not want to do dirty things. Not that sex is bad, but it has its place, for children. Yes it is pleasurable but it makes you a slave. I have no desire. Even when I look at the beautiful Cecilia, and I love her, but am afraid of talking to her. I do not want to do dirty things with her. I want to be her friend and talk to her and look into her beautiful face. I love so many women. One can say I love Danica as she was the girl from my youth who I loved the most even though I was not important in her own life at all and I haven't seen her in years. I look at pictures and little videos and I pray for her. One can say I love the beautiful Cecilia and since I know her from Church I hope she is innocent and pure, despite being so very beautiful. One can say I love the lovely Helena who sings and plays the organ so nicely. But I know I am not good enough for any woman. I think I will spend my life alone as my disability makes me unable to support a wife and a family, so I have little to offer. So it is sad. But I am content. What does it mean? I just want to sit quietly and pray. What is the value of prayer? I believe in God but how can I serve Him? Is just thinking of Him and loving Him of value to Him even if I do not DO anything important at all? I have a bad habit of talking to myself and sometimes I say bad things. When I go to confession I say the same thing every time. I do not think it is a big sin, but it is repetitive. I want it to go away. When it happens I beat my breast and say "mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa." I know I am not without sin. I remember at the hospital the doctor there pointed at me and said that I was the most innocent of all the people there in the psych ward. I remember with Nido where he put his foot next to mine and it felt like he was giving me psychic energy and something similar happened at night where I seem to remember being in a room with one of the men workers and a woman, perhaps his girlfriend or his wife. Like they gave me energy. I don't know what actually happened and what I was imagining. I had the idea that I was taking my pills and then taking everyone else's pills and I kept taking more and more pills until I got sick and I was lucky I did not die.

I don't know, but I love Julian, and I love Tom. Julian is my very best friend and Tom is the best friend who I see at Church. I hope he does not die. But perhaps he would be happier if he were dead. Without any more pain. But Tom gets angry. At the Church, at priests, at other people. But never at me. Never at me. He was a social worker and he spent his life helping people until his cancer made him unable to work. I wonder if he had a temper with his clients. I wonder if he is ready to die. Sometimes I think that we are already dead and we are all in hell. But if this is hell it is a happy place for being hell. And beautiful. And I do not remember the last judgment. So I guess this cannot be hell. Though I do not die and I have been alive for so very long. Sometimes I think "It has been eleven years since I went crazy, it seems like it has been no time at all". The sense of time when one has a broken memory as I do.

As a crazy person I have a strange existence. It has been so long that I do not remember what it was like to be normal. The island of saints and schizophrenics. I am trying to be both. The demons are not bothering me lately. All I have to worry about is my poor poor broken mind. So I am quiet and I pray and I am happy and content. I love my God. But not enough. I must learn to love better. It hurts me to think of pain. Not of the pain itself but when the pain makes one turn away from God. No God could allow such suffering. I do not have the answer but one must believe.

We went to the religious store and looked at the knick knacks. They had medals of saints. My mother bought Christmas cards for priests and deacons and bishops. I looked at the books. They had prayer books and Bibles. Catholic and Anglican. Statues and vestments. And then we went to the Catholic thrift store where I  bought my chest of drawers. I love Julian. I am going to visit him on Tuesday. I do not pray for him much. He wants me to pray that he be cured of his blindness. But I do not remember to pray for him like I pray for others. I hope my prayers that I do pray go to him and help him, but he seems like he does not need the prayers. He suffers in his disability. I will go to comfort him.

Father told me he visited Julian on Saturday and he told me that he needs visitors. I will go. To my friend. We will probably pray the chaplet of Saint Michael. I will give him a salami sandwich. We will talk. Perhaps about God. To pray is the most important thing. Tuesday for my friend in Advent. I hope to make him a little happier and give him strength to believe even though God has not seen to cure him as he hopes and prays.

Into the sea, Our Lady, Star of the Sea. Keep watch over me and Julian and all of those who are important to me who I pray for and who I forget to pray for. For those I love and those who love me. Thank you for reading. It is past midnight and I am rambling. So bad news, bad news, bad news. The world is such a wicked place. I pray for innocence and for peace for you and for me and for everyone we know and love. Amen.

Elvia

So I went for a ride in a car today. I saw my neighbor lady while walking to Church today. She is there to pick up her daughter from school at 2:45 every day. I like to go to Church at that time to pray the Way of the Cross. She invited me into her car, or ordered me, the same. Her name is Elvia. We exchanged cell phone numbers. She asks me why I don't have a girlfriend and told me I should have a baby. I say I can't have a baby without a girl who wanted to have my child. She laughs. I asked her if I could get a pretty girl and she laughs. She told me she wants to have another baby and I said she didn't look pregnant and she said, not yet! She wants to wait until her child is older I guess. Her daughter is five. I saw she had two rosaries and a brown scapular hanging from her rear view mirror which I pointed out to her. She asked me if I Rosary and I said I had one in my pocket and she told me I should wear it around my neck. And she looked at my neck and touched me and checked under my collar with her hand to see if I had a Rosary there. And she combed my hair with her hand. My hair was wet with snow. I think a woman touching me in that way is a sign of flirting and sexual interest. But it has been a long time. My mother and father do not trust her and think she wants to steal my identity, or perhaps marry me for some reason, perhaps to become a citizen (I do not know if she is one) or for some kind of tax or welfare scheme. I am friendly with her because it is nice to have a friend. I do not have many friends. And she is a woman and all women are charming, even if she is not my type. But they do say with good reason a man's type of woman is the woman who is interested in him. She asked me where I was going to and I told her to 102nd street and she offered to drive me. When her daughter got into the car she drove me there and we had a little talk. Then I thanked her and got out of the car and walked back to Church where I said my prayers and then home.

I don't know why she is interested in me talking to me, a crazy poor man of no note. Perhaps she does want to take advantage of me or maybe she just thinks I am handsome. Every time I see her she acts happy or is happy and wants to talk. Maybe she is friendly to everyone for all I know. But my parents do not trust her and get upset when I talk to her. I just want to be friendly and nice to our neighbor and be friends.