The Weight of Expectations, Sales, and Recantating Bradshaw’s Prophecy

11/12/2024

St. Joseph was just a silent video game protagonist wasn’t he. It’s been too long since my last short story. On the side of prose, every five years or so I receive a masterpiece in my mind’s eye, but then have the greatest difficulty in putting it to paper. There are drafts. Unfortunately, the more I pray as a Catholic the more wary I become of whatever I write.

What’s spoken, every careless word will be brought to judgement.

Then there’s life, the drudgery of life. Perhaps some can relate. A lot of my current troubles are caused by the weight of my parent’s expectations.

Four years ago, I decided to major in Marketing because a $75,000 salary was considered middle class. Today, I get lectures from Ma and Pa about my major because $80,000 entry level’s considered low income. It also doesn’t help that every opportunity that I think is fine gets readjusted into a job for failures. In short, in my family if you aren’t an investment banker, politician, doctor, or lawyer you’ve wasted all your talents.

It's just Asian things. Even so, I can’t help but feel that people with delusional optimism always fair better than these anxious types families like mine wish to produce. On the other hand, I do see where they’re coming from. One doesn’t need a college degree to work as a salesman. Sales also pays pennies if you can’t sell. I also have loans which they cosigned.

Sitting here now, this doesn’t feel like a fate I decided for myself. Prayer helps, especially rosaries. When it came to receiving the things that actually mattered to me, the game was rigged from the start. So now, I suffer the flesh wound of knowing that my college education and education in general never gave me anything that actually mattered. The people who I was supposed to trust failed me in this respect. I don’t blame them. In today’s world, the majority of parent’s fail their children.

What’s more, the life of modern man is a continual cope with dishonorable occupations. On my end, from God’s perspective, I only started coming alive when I was baptized at 21 in 2023. I’m like an infant now, soon to be 22, and I see how much my life was a waste.

These soon-to-be two years I’ve spent a baptized man. The ambitions I hold are so contrary to those I’ve held before. My parents would be much happier if my soul was still that soul who wanted to invest in private militaries to take over the world. To go from a man willing to do everything he can to be rich to a man wishing to sell insurance for a Catholic religious order? Ridiculous.

My hope, if sales really is as lucrative as they say, is to proliferate the sale of a useful thing, the Church, and make the most of those “uncapped commissions.” I don’t have it in me to work for companies who cut at my religion. And, if I were to look at my potential career objectively, I’d be getting trained by a fellow who was both an Air Force Seargeant and Police Detective. If nothing else, I’d acquire some useful wisdom and work with men whom I respect.

***

Wesley Bradshaw turned out to be the name of an author of fiction making one of my previous claims about this Republic being one to last until the end of the age false. The Virgin Mary did not appear to Washington at Valley Forge. The Republic’s what it is; a country born to end like all things. Even so, what I’ve said previously about the Republic’s purpose is still true. Before heaven and earth the Republic best illustrates how man chooses his own damnation or salvation. Thy damnation comes from thee; thy help is only in me. If the Republic dies then we can only say the Republic’s death came from itself. And who rules the Republic of 2024? The people.

What we had in our beginning.

A President worthy to be king.

Who will save the people when the people can’t save themselves? My God, I know your chastisement’s to come. Thy will be done.

In other news, I’ve good reason to believe I’ve been born with brain rot. Fasting has been a kind of help. The closer to death I get the closer I am to a full knowledge of my soul. A kingdom may be measured by what it protects. In man, the kingdom of heaven.

These writings exist in the realm between fiction and reality.

Write à Right

When I write I right. What do I right? Lack of life? Man’s lack of spouse? Husband? Wife? When Vikings used to raid the land there wast a man who could not stand. Ivar the Boneless conquered Londiniam.

Some months ago, I made the mistake of clicking on a video titled, “Why men haven’t grown.” It was entertaining enough. Later, I learned the owner of the channel spent 2k on an inflatable doll and my recommendations went downhill from there. I’ve since finished doing damage control. If a Viking born without the use of his legs could conquer the capital of England, then really, these men with their legs ought to have the will to walk over excuses.