Yellow Swallowtail

 

Saw one of these butterflies today. Yellow. By flowers and then flew across the street and over the house and went away. Not as pretty as the black ones, but they are cousins.

The Sin Parade Day

 Today was the pride March. It is rightly named as pride is the deadliest of the deadly sins and sodomy is considered by some saints to be the worst sin so that sodomites suffer greater pains in hell than any other sinners. The flag is the rainbow. The rainbow was a sign of God's covenant with Noah after the flood. It is used ironically by the gays because the reason for the flood according to some was because the world had fallen into the embrace of sodomy and gay marriage. Spit in the face of God. What does a rainbow have to do with sodomy? Shit is brown and blood is red.

Of course I went into the city today to go to Church. Our Mass is in a building in Soho now and not in the Soldiers and Sailor's Club anymore. They sold that building. Mass was beautiful, as it always is. There were so many people in the subway with rainbows and half naked. So many young people. When I was in school the worst insult was to call someone "gay" and now they are all celebrating it. Everyone is brainwashed. I wish one day a real rain would come and wash all this scum off the streets. 

I don't think things look good for New York City. I see it falling back into racial strife and crime. I hope my neighborhood stays safe. It has always been safe. I was never mugged or approached or even bothered by a stranger in all my life here. My father was robbed once on 110th street coming home from work in the ninetees when crime was worse than it has been lately.

After Mass Louis was there so we went out to get real food. When he is not there we get donuts and coffee. When he is there we go get real food. Today we went to a pizza place called Marinara. I had a chicken roll and some garlic bread. Bishop Williamson and Father Hewko came up. And me and Louis spoke about Steve Skojec and Taylor Marshall and how Louis thought Marshall was more popular but I argue that Steve was popular as well. They were called grifters. Both of them make six figures off of donations from Catholics, but we both agreed that Marshall has a better show. Someone wants to move to Portugal. Where the dogma of the faith will always be preserved. Houses are cheap there, so they say.

Coming home on the subway a girl was passed out on the train. I was thinking about waking her up because I thought she had slept and passed her stop. But I let her be. When my stop came she woke up and got out. I watched her. She went down and under and went back up the stairs to go to the train going back the other way. She had missed her stop. Nighty night.

Fasting Again

 I have gained a lot of weight since this covid nonsense started. I have been eating more, and also drinking beer. So I decided to stop and lose weight again. Actually the weight gain really began when I got out of the hospital almost two years ago, but it got worse since covid. I ate more, and stopped going out for my two daily walks during the winter.

So now I started going on my two daily walks again. And starting yesterday I am fasting. It will be slow going, as I do not have the will built up yet. The immediate goal is to eat two meals a day, not counting tea. A half of a tuna melt, or alternatively two pieces of toast with butter and jam, at noon time. And a normal dinner, whatever I make for my family at night. I am not going to eat a separate meal of rice and lentils as I did the last time I fasted. But that is for now, I may switch as time goes on. On Sundays I will not fast, and sometimes I will allow myself to take some beer. But still eat less than I normally would.

On day one I did well. I had my two meals and took a little extra food in between meals as I got hungry. But even though I had a little extra, it was a little enough amount of food that if I continued to eat that way I would lose weight. Today, day two, I also took a little extra food. But a little less than yesterday. And I will be having a light dinner. In time, I will get less hungry and be able to eat less food. Who knows, in time I may have the will to eat only one meal, at night, and not have my half a tuna melt in the morning. But I will not do this quickly, as recently I bought a lot of cans of tuna from the internet so I have at least a month's worth to eat before it is gone. Perhaps the goal will be to reduce the amount of food until I am ready to eat only one meal when I run out of cans of tuna. So it is going well so far. I hope the will to fast does not go away. I was able to sustain it for half a year the first time, hopefully the same will happen again.

And I started taking my two daily walks. Yesterday I saw a falcon soaring and an oriole sitting high up in a tree and singing. I love seeing uncommon birds. The common birds in my neighborhood are mourning doves which are my favorite birds, sparrows, pigeons, starlings, mockingbirds, and robins. Sometimes I see gold finches, cardinals, blue jays, and woodpeckers. There are also the hawks who often rest atop the steeple of the Church a block and a half away from our house. And of course there are the grackles who live in South Richmond Hill on the way to St. Benny's. But I have stopped walking to St. Benny's for Benediction since covid so I haven't seen them recently. I should find out if they have Benediction again over there so I could go on Thursdays as I used to go. And of course there are the songbirds who live in the bird store on Atlantic Avenue which I go past on my walks. There are other birds whose names do not come to my mind but they are not as common as those I named.

I have been bringing my best friend Julian food on Fridays. I bring him tuna salad sandwiches with celery and cucumbers and lettuce with no cheese. He wants a specific type of bread from Trader Joe's called Ezekiel Bread. I bought it once for him. But we do not eat it so it will go bad every week if I continue to buy it for him. Perhaps I will just give him the whole loaf when I bring the sandwiches to him on Fridays. I would get him the bread every week, but I can not always get a ride to Trader Joe's and it is a long walk or 5.50 for the bus fare. Julian is a charity case. I am always buying him things and he doesn't pay me back very much. For every ten dollars I spend on him he gives me one dollar back. But I don't mind. I have nothing to spend my money on anyway. I guess I could give more money to Church.

And I have started taking my cold showers again. It does strengthen the will so it goes well with fasting. And I have decided to say more prayers. Be sure to pray the whole Little Office every day except for Sunday and the Office of the Dead at night before I go to bed. And the Rosary which I always pray. Sunday is a Holiday. I go into the city for Church and after Mass we talk foe a while with my friends. There is a new man at Church named Raymond. He introduced himself to me last week, though I had seen him before. He started coming regularly a little earlier in the year. Perhaps next week we will invite him to the Donut Pub after Mass so we can talk about religion. CUP. I was thinking about these things at Church this week and during the Canon I started praying "help me to be more of a monk". So I am eating less and praying more, and having my recreation of my walks. 

I have a problem of talking to myself. Sometimes when I talk to myself I say bad things without really thinking about what I am saying until after it is said. I used to confess this until the priest told me that if it was not intentional it probably was not a sin. I do say bad things. Maybe it is the wickedness spilling over the brim of my wicked heart. But sometimes I say good things as well, does that mean my heart is good? Am I a good tree or a wicked one. Do I bear fruit? 

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.

Ben Is Dead Now

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

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

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

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