We had a wonderful Feast of the Assumption as St. Michael's in Farmingville. We met at 4:15 in Williamsburg, D., J. and I, and we picked up A. in Long Island. And we drove to Farmingville. I took the bus and the subway to get to Williamsburg, it took an hour and a half. Then the drive to Farmingville was two hours. On the bus there were lots of babies. Beautiful children. I love little babies. They are important vessels of graces. In many places where wickedness abounds, the only graceful people are the little babies and the children. So I love looking at children and talking to them and waving at then and singing to them and whistling to them. God loves the little children dearly and will strike down those who scandalize his children. Imagine the punishment due to the wicked sinner who first entices a little child in the state of grace to commit his first mortal sin. It would be better if a millstone was put around his neck and he was cast into the sea. I so love little children and was happy to see them.
On the train there was a man with a tattoo that said "vegan" on his neck and he had many nose rings, he was with another man and I had the impression that they were homosexual, but one can not simply judge that by appearances, it could have been Jesus Christ for all I know. I gave some change to a man with a sign that said he was a veteran who looked homeless.
Then I gave some change to a musician with a stringed instrument that looked like a giant gourd, an instrument I had never seen before, and he played into the night beneath the earth.
At Mass I went to confession after being prompted two times by two different good people. I did not think I had any mortal sins to confess but it was good to clean my soul before the Holy Sacrifice. I asked Father how often I should go to confession and he said at least once a month and if I ever fall into mortal sin. Mass was beautiful. A low Mass with singing, but the most beautiful low Mass I have ever been to. There was a small choir of a few girls with angelic voices. For the feast of the Assumption one of the hymns sung was my favorite Marian hymn, Ave Maris Stella. They sung it the proper way, that I do not know how to sing, as I just sing it to a simple tune I came up with myself that is like a march. I went to Communion with D., A., and J. It was a happy Mass. They had a beautiful statue of Saint Michael casting the devil into hell.
After Mass Father blessed my new Rosary and D.'s Rosary made of olive wood from the holy land with dirt from the holy land. I borrowed a book. Cross Upon Cross, about Pope Pius IX, a book I bought from St. Christopher's read and started to re-read but never finished it. I mailed it to an internet friend but it got lost in the mail. The book I borrowed had a book mark in at at the exact chapter I had stopped reading before I gave it away. So now I will finish it from there and then return it to Father.
They had a bonfire after Mass and we all attended and stayed there for two hours. It was a lovely party. They were generous with the food. They fed us more and more food, at one point I told J. that the feast was bordering on gluttony. But it was good fun, Bless the Lord. The whole time we had good conversation. Some of it was a little heated as D. was talking about being a sedevacantist, but I was talking about how I preferred the position of Bishop Williamson (I love him even though I attend and SSPX mission). We even talked about sports. I am a Yankees fan and D. is an Islander's fan. And he talked about how great it was when the Islanders, an expansion team, won four Stanley Cups in a row from 1980 - 1983. And I told him about how an old friend from middle school liked the Islanders and he had a crude line that he sung to Rangers fans when the Rangers were doing good and it looked like they might win a Stanley Cup.
Let's see 'em win
Four cups in a row!
I went to a the Kew Forest School for seventh and eight grade. I believe our president, Donald Trump went to the same school, but I am not sure which grades he went to at that school. It serves grades K - 12. There were lots of Jews there. In fact it was my introduction to Jews, not counting grade-school teachers I had before I even knew what a Jew was. I fell in love with a Jew in the seventh grade named Sarah. I still remember where she lived. I have a weakness for falling in love with Jews and other disreputable women. Oh. Sarah in her youth. Jews don't age well. Only good Catholics age well, really. The other girls are quickly overtaken by sin. The God who brings Joy to my Youth. It is on the border between Kew Gardens and Forest Hills. Kew Gardens is thoroughly Jewish, but Forest Hills is mixed. There are many synagogues in Kew Gardens and there are two Churches in Forest Hills, Our Lady Queen of Martyrs and Our Lady of Mercy. Tonight I was dropped off outside of Martyrs and my Father picked me up and drove me home. It was a happy day. Tomorrow I plan on visiting the Blessed Sacrament at my local parish to keep Our Lord company. I may go to benediction and sing the "Tantum Ergo". And on Sunday I do not know if I will be at St. Christopher's or if I will be travelling to the Eastern Rite at St. John the Baptist.
So I got to spent half the day with Our Lord! What a happy day. We prayed the fifteen decade Rosary and talked about the good God. It was the best Holy Day of Obligation I have had since my conversion. As usually on Holy days I am stuck staying alone or going to the diocesan Mass which I do not prefer to the SSPX.
I feel good. Things are improving. I just have to try and be good and do my parents will instead of my own will. It is hard as I am pigheaded. I want to do what I want to do, and I am too credulous. I cast my pearls before swine because I trust people who I should not trust. And they try to desecrate Our Lord because of my credulity. It is a great sin. My neighborhood is peaceful. I wish everyone would visit. We are trying to expel or convert all the Jews to bring peace to the neighborhood. They opened a den of vipers a block away from my house. On the way to the bus stop. My mother says at least they are clean, but they are not clean, it just looks like they are clean but their hands are stained with the blood of Christ. But I love Jews for some reason. In my days of sin I had a nasty habit of falling in love with Jewish girls and women instead of good Catholic ones. And I did not convert them, they converted me to Baal. But now I try to convert them from afar. I try to be good and I pray. I don't talk to them much, but I look at them with my eyes and I sing and whistle and pray for flowers and birds and bees and butterflies. Who would not convert at the sight of a beautiful butterfly?
On my second walk today I was able to go into the bird store. They had all kinds of birds who were all chirping. The only kind whose name I remembered were the "zebra finches". There were birds for sale and birds that were not for sale and they had a back room with the door open where the good birds which were not for sale were kept. And there was an empty cage with a label "new". I did not see a bird there. I wonder what kind of bird will end up in that cage.
Yesterday as I was walking through the enchanted garden I saw a beautiful brown bird with a crown on the back of her head. She looked like some kind of pigeon. There was a turquoise band around her right foot so I knew that the bird was a pet. She was tamed. A ring means one is tames and belongs to someone and is not wild. Like the wedding ring means that the wife belongs to the husband and the husband belongs to the man.
It makes me think about witchcraft and superstition. What is a "familiar"? I have the impression that the witch can see out of the cat's eyes and sends the cat out into the world to cast spells and lay traps with the help of the devil. I am interested in witchcraft because I think I have been enchanted and my neighborhood and my city is infested with Jews and witches. Do they really offer blood sacrifice? In the park there are places where the stones are blackened from the fires to the demons the satanists offer animal sacrifices to. Sometimes they offer sacrifices right next to the cemeteries. The cemeteries where I walk and see mourning doves who "coo, coo, coo" for the souls of the faithful departed who are in purgatory and are in need of our prayers. I so neglect the poor souls, but I hope when I pray my regular prayers that the good God uses them for the poor souls sometimes when I do not list any explicit intentions.
I am looking for work now. I applied for work as a poll worker during elections. My Father told me to apply so I did. I am trying to obey my Father. I hope I get some kind of work. I am applying for jobs and trying to volunteer for my parish. But I have to wait for my mother to introduce me to Father Henue, who is in China now.
I think I am called to get married. But I do not know who to marry. Sometimes I think I should marry my first girlfriend who is a pagan. We sinned together so I have some claim to her and she has some claim to me. But then I would have to convert her. I do not think she is even baptized. It would be so much easier to find a good girl from Church, but since I have sinned, do I really deserve an innocent virgin? I don't know bad people tell me to marry her. But she doesn't seem to want to talk to me. I will call her on the telephone to see what's up with her. I did love her for a little while, though she took advantage of my and drained my soul to the point of despair. But I was not good to either, though she had me on a string and not the other way around. The most perfect girl I know is named Elena. The most beautiful girl I know is named Cecelia. and I the girl with the best name is Marie Therese. But I think I may be called to marry the girl who I have a past with and try to convert her. I should call her and try to invite her to Church. I do not think she is free on Sundays so I guess I would have to invite her to a weekday Moss at Holy Innocents, or maybe just a prayer outside of Mass before the Tabernacle, or before the Blessed Sacrament exposed in a Golden Monstrance.
Life is so wonderful. I hope it continues this way and I do not fall again. So far, so far. But when one falls we pray to rise up again from the ashes like a phoenix. There is a new wildflower in my patch, a Fuchsia one. I saw it but it was not pretty enough to take a photograph of. I hope it blossoms and is ready by tomorrow. And then the bees can come and it can multiply.