Frankincense- Cause A Demon Ain't Got No Sense

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December 30th, 2021


Something occured to me, something else from Jesse Romero's book, The Devil in the City of Angels. Romero writes about something called "perfect possession," in which the victim doesn't resist the demon, but welcomes it, and effectively becomes a physical embodiment of the demon's will. Romero feels this may have been the case with Richard Ramirez, the Satanist and infamous serial killer of the 1980s, dubbed "The Night Stalker." A perfectly possessed person would not show any signs of possession, as they would be perfectly at ease with the situation. Romero speculates that all the cases of possession we hear about are the ones that did not go perfectly; the cases where the victims resist, and demons attack and torment them in retaliation. It's a terrifying thought; because it means that there may be any number of perfectly possessed people walking around; essentially demons in the flesh.

Upon contemplation, this reminded me of my own comments about Jorge, my abusive, piece-of-shit ex; whom I hadn't planned to write about again, but this might be important. At one point, demons tried to convince me that, rather than meeting me at Aunt Nell's, they had actually arrived here with Jorge. I said, and wrote, in previous chapters, that I don't think that's true; that I don't think Jorge was possessed or suffering from any disorder, but that he was simply an asshole, who doesn't deserve to have any excuses made for him. Well, I was exactly right in my assessment that Jorge does not deserve to be excused; but actually, demons, and Romero, may be right too.

Jorge might be a perfectly possessed person; but if he is, it's his own damned fault, because only someone who was a real asshole to begin with could become perfectly possessed. This is yet another example of why I had little sympathy for that mother who drowned her children. You can resist demons. They will torture you if you resist, but you do not have to do what they tell you to do! Therefore, I stand by my assessment that no one, even if they are under the influence of demons, deserves our understanding or forgiveness for committing heinous acts. Yes, as Christians, we are supposed to love our neighbors, and we are supposed to forgive; but I'm pretty sure that applies to other (living) people and animals, not demons, and not demons in skinsuits either. After all, God Himself is planning to barbecue them, as I understand it.

Additionally, it has occurred to me that demonic influence might be part of the reason that domestic violence victims sometimes resist separating from their abusers...


And now, back to my story.

...continued

In early November, demons calmed down with their antics once more. I suppose with Halloween over, there was not as much cause to put on a show. I took some time off from writing to paint my house in case Father Ryan was able to come out and assist me with the consecration. I didn't feel that it was necessary; but I thought it to be a respectful gesture. A church should be kept as nice as possible.

One day, when demons started transmitting me a bunch of bullshit, I tried a new tactic. I started telemarketing them. I figured, what is the most annoying thing in the world, besides demons? Right? So, whenever they started, I interrupted, and started sending them looping, repetitive messages of,
"Hey, did you know that your car's extended warranty is about to expire? Well, it is! Press 2 to speak to a customer service representative, and renew your extended warranty today!
Hey, did you know that your car's extended warranty is about to expire? Well, it is! Press 2 to speak to a customer service representative, and renew your extended warranty today!"

This method did not prove effective, however, because demons thought it was hilarious. They laughed, and called me a "Shit-postmistress."

I went to visit Lee for three days, and we went to a Renaissance Festival with some mutual friends. The entire time I was staying with Lee, demons were much quieter, commenting only occasionally, and never really tormenting me. I think this was partially because, as I've mentioned several times, any time I'm having a conversation with another person, they eavesdrop more than they interrupt. I also think they spent some time away from me, exploring other people; because, after all, we were in a different town, and Lee actually has neighbors.

I know they strayed away from me a lot while we were at the Festival. There were times when I felt like a normal person once more. But, they were there to comment on anything noteworthy. For example, at the stand that sells turkey legs and kabobs, the serving wench, tightly-corseted in a low cut Medieval dress, called to her coworker,
"I need a stick!"
I'm assuming she meant a kabob stick. Anyway, demons commented,
"She definitely does need a stick, with that display!"
I was hoping that amongst all that cleavage, they'd find someone else; but, they didn't.

While I was at Lee's, I tried to talk to him about all of this. I knew that he didn't want to hear anything about Christianity, so I tried talking about this book instead. I told him that I'm writing a book, and that I feel that it will help a lot of people. He only responded,
"I don't need any help."

Sometime in late November, I decided to just stop trying to get rid of demons. This sounds counter to Christianity, I realize, because it seems as if that's what the demons want. It probably is what they want; but the fact remains that they will not be prayed or saged away; not for good, anyway. Therefore, causing us to devote great amounts of time to trying to exorcise them is yet another way in which they control our lives. While we are spending money on supplies and exhausting ourselves with our efforts, we're indirectly giving them attention. So, I decided to just stop; unless they're being particularly pesky, in which case, I'll sage them. I probably won't have any more exorcisms though; I don't think I'll need them. I had already decided back in the Summer to stop praying for deliverance every day. I know that God knows that I don't want these demons. Reminding Him every day is probably not necessary.

Towards the end of November, demons adopted a fake Appalachian accent. They'd add "right yonder" to everything they said,
"You shouldn't do that stuff right yonder!" they'd tell me.
But, then I started working again, on my online store, followed by trying to finish this book, and things got worse again. At first it was their usual combination of comedy and horror; with them being funny at times, inevitably followed by a switch to pure evil.

While working on tee shirt designs for the store, they'd say things like,
"Demon wants one... Yes, demons would wear that shirt themselves, but we don't have arms to put through the armholes, and we don't have fund sourcing, no, we do not have fund sourcing. Satan won't let us have credit cards, so we can't get a shirt."
Other times, they'd try to boss me, giving me suggestions about how the designs could be better, and acting as if I should take their advice. Not all of it was bad advice; occasionally, they did have a point. Sometimes they'd whisper ominous things like,
"Satan asks us what you dream about... We lie..."
One night, one of them said,
"You should sell this demon."
I laughed. It was just so random, and not at all a terrible thought. He continued,
"Yes. You should sell this demon, because some people would pay good money for this demon, because this demon is hilarious."

Then one night I woke up, abruptly; having been in the throes of a nightmare that I couldn't remember. I had a feeling that I'd actually been awakened by demons, rather than the nightmare, although I hadn't felt them tugging on my legs or arms, or hitting my face, which are their usual methods. Then I felt something, that, without being too graphic, felt as if I was being sexually assaulted. As soon as that realization hit me, and I began to scramble into a sitting position, a demon said,
"Satan told us to check that," and a few other disgusting things.
I was fully dressed, by the way. I was wearing jogging pants and a sweatshirt. Clothing is not a barrier for demons, though. I got up, sprayed Holy water all over the house, lit some frankincense, and, after being pissed off for a while, went back to sleep.

I've started using resin frankincense a lot at night. I have it set up just like in the photo. I'm using a burner that was meant to be an oil or wax warmer, with a tea light. I have that placed in an antique candy dish that belonged to one of my great-grandmothers, so it's a sacramental too, in a way. Aside from the fact that it looks cool, the candy dish adds stability; so there's less chance of cats knocking it over. I think the candy dish also helps trap heat and aids in generating enough warmth to melt the resin. A tea candle burns for about three hours, by the way.

I like this method because the resin burns clean; it doesn't smoke up the house or clog my sinuses. Plus, the way I have it set up, it's safe enough to leave it burning while I fall asleep. I've also been having to use my exorcism prayers playlist at night. These are the recorded prayers that were once on the exorcism prayers CD, but the CD player stopped working. Now I have the playlist on my phone, and I've been using that; plugging it in if I think the battery won't last the night.

After that assault incident, demons resorted to their jokes and playfulness once more. One night when I was up late working on the store, they chided me, saying, in a silly voice,
"Are you ser-ious? You're de-lir-ious!"

Earlier this month, I talked to Lee one night. He must've been a little bit depressed, because he said that he feels as if he has no one to talk to anymore. I said,
"Gee. I feel the same way."
He then said that he always felt that he could talk to me, though; to which I replied,
"Well, that's great; and I wish I felt the same way, but I don't."
He said,
"What do you mean? Haven't I always been good to talk to?"
I replied,
"You were; until this. But I can't talk to you about the recent, major changes in my life because you don't want to hear anything about Christianity."
He agreed that he did not want to hear anything about Christianity; and said that he wished I hadn't joined the Catholic church because they are the most controlling, sexist church of all.
I said,
"Well... it's not quite the way you think it is, but I can't tell you how it really is because you don't want to discuss it. But, I will say that if what has happened to me had happened to you, you might have gone running to a Catholic church too."
Then I asked him if we could talk about the fact that I'm a medium now, if I didn't talk about Christianity, and he said yes. So, we talked about that aspect of it, a little bit anyway.


Oh, yeah. My journal reminds me of some misinformation that I need to correct. I wrote, in some of the early chapters, that demons seemed unable to say Jesus, God, or Mary. They would, in the past, always mispronounce these names, saying instead, "Glod," "Jebus," or "Maly." Well, that was a trick. They are perfectly capable of saying those names correctly. In the second week of December, as I began writing again, they adopted a new mantra,
"Jesus Christ! This is embarrassing to Shameuses."
They also resumed their old trick of allegedly telling Satan everything I do.
[insert eye rolling emoji]

They began with the pushing me, from inside, again; and the "walking me," that I described in "Shaintsville Ain't Nowhere You Wanna Go." They tried new lies. On December 9th, a demon came to me and told me that the demon who had been treating me so cruelly was named... well, I won't say it, because it wasn't the truth. The demon said the name of an older man from my community. It was a name I'd heard before, as this man's family has known my family for a long time. I don't know him personally, though, and I wasn't sure if he was still alive. I knew that they must have read that name out of someone's mind, but probably not mine. I hadn't thought about that man, obviously, but that doesn't matter. Because I ever knew his name, they could find it. But, they'd have had to do some digging to pull that from me, so I assumed that they'd been snooping around my parents' house.

I called and asked Mom if that man was still alive. She said that as far as she knew, he was. I asked her if she had thought about him recently, or if Dad had. I asked her to ask Dad. I know that's a weird question to ask out of the blue; but I have explained to them that there's mind-reading going on here, and I would assume that they'd know that if I'm asking a weird question, it's for a good reason. Well, they both said no, they had not been thinking about that guy recently; but they wanted to know why I was asking, so I had to explain the whole thing. Then Mom said,
"Well... I was talking about his mother the other day on the phone. Her name came up in a conversation, yes, but not his."

Bingo. That's where it came from. I knew then that demons had been spying on my parents. Probably what happened was, while talking about his mother, she had a thought about him. It might have been a fleeting thought, just a flicker of an image; but that was enough. They had then retrieved his name from her memories. Either that, or they were conducting full investigations on everyone she mentioned or thought about. She probably had that flicker of a thought, and didn't remember it. She probably wasn't even consciously aware that she had thought it. Most people aren't that consciously aware of everywhere their thoughts go, and they don't have a reason to be; if they don't understand that every thought is being read, and also analyzed, by demons who are trying to figure out how to use them against you. Also, my parents hadn't experienced any haunting activity. They had no reason to suspect that demons had been sneaking around reading their minds. It can happen, and you won't know anything about it. I promise that it has happened to you.

Everything you've ever done, or thought, or said, is recorded, somehow, even if you've forgotten about it. I know that for a fact. I wonder if having an exceptionally good memory is a sign of being psychically gifted? Perhaps people with really good memories are able to tap into that somehow?

To be continued...