Category Archives: family

Tumors Are Back With A Vengeance

I received my test results.

It’s confirmed. The cancer is winning.

Big time.

Payout is about two months away.

I won round 1 only to be sucker punched into a Round 2.

I am emotional to say the least.

The bastard got me. Hook, line and sinker. Or so it believes!

I can’t stand up to face Round 2 without a referee. My referee will be my Faith.

If it is to be a clean fight I will need a few well placed right hooks, or we will go down fast.

Cancer doe snot fight a clean fight.

Cancer is a dirty fighter.

I will have to fight as a true Urban Viking and utilize whatever I may to bring this wretched , demonic dease to it’s knees.

I am “The Original Urban Viking” , as such it is up to me to lay the ground rules for future Urban Vikings, who may follow and have to fight for their very lives.

The most important rule to fighting cancer is to not be afraid to cry or laugh.

You will be scared. No one fighting these battles can say they were/are not afraid.

YOU ARE FACING DEATH!!!!

There will be days when you beg your Creator to just take you and end your suffering.

DO NOT GIVE IN TO THIS NEGATIVITY!!!!

There will also be days that you are smiling and ready for whatever is tossed unto your lap.

You will have emotional days where as you feel you have lost all your manhood or womanhood. Days where the mirror becomes your enemy as you realize that you look like a holocaust survivor. Where you do not recognize the poor soul in the mirror.

Just bear in mind that you can recover. It will take time. A long time. But, you will recover.

My recent test results surprised me. I was not expecting such a severe diagnosis. I expected bad, but not horrible.

I committed the biggest mistake in a cancer battle ….

I let my guard down and allowed hope to give me a false feeling of a battle already won.

This leaves me in the uncomfortable position of choosing which remedy best suits my recovery.

Option one:.

Death within 2 months. Not acceptable!

Option 2:

Another round of heavy duty radical radiation. No one else has survived.

On my right shoulder I have a cute white winged Angel telling me to follow them.

Her remedy was to pass the bucket on the left hand side and, thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, ingest large quantities of radiation. With no guarantee other than months of discomfort.

Of which my chance of being cured lay at a measly 7 percent survivor rate.

On my left shoulder stands a drunken mini version of a Keebler Elf with tossed salad in his hair.

His remedy was to allow the Winds of Change and Darkness to take as much time as they need to devour my frontal lobes.

Totally unacceptable.

Which would you choose?

I opted for allowing Nature to attack at her wish.

I will counterattack with all my resources. The human body is an amazing machine and with the right positive attitude is capable of much that modern medicine cannot explain.

My surviving the first round of this battle is living proof of this.

To quote my team of doctors,

Only words to describe my winning so far is ‘Miracle’.”

I have to wait now.

Patiently.

For Ascension.

To put this in “Layman terms”:

I got two cancers. First we thought we were winning. This was a ‘hope’.

I know I am far stronger than most believe. More than I even believe.

I will do what I must to stay alive. The only thing I will absolutely refuse is disfiguring surgeries.

For, I am The Original Urban Viking and Valhalla is not ready for me. Helheim is afraid of me.

I will go down head held high and my axe swinging.

Frack cancer.

I choose life!

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How many tears does it take to fill a broken heart?

How many tears does it take to fill a broken heart?

Tears are the measurement of emotional pain.

Love teaches various hurts via the trials and tribulations of a new and advancing relationship

Deeply, madly and truly.

I have been alive 61 years, 6 months and 12 days. I have had my heart demolished and my soul spilt into the gutter more times than any person could withstand.

One of the top priorities in my daily prayer sessions is my six plus decades of begging the Creator for a day, one meager 24 hour time slot, where I do not hurt or cause hurt to someone else.

The two cancer diagnosis,

the stroke,

the abscess from Hell,

the following septicemia battle.

Top that off with an exploded spleen and by the Lords of Donegul I swear you will have a uniquely, traumatic story to tell.

By estimate I can safely say I have cried an Imperial gallon of heartbroken tears in the past 5 months. Or so it seems. Either way it’s suffice to say I cried an enormous quantity of tears.

Of which, ninety-nine percent I have no knowledge why they come.

This causes me to lose a little more of my already drained genetic interpretation of manhood.

I am trapped in the gray brink of Darkness. As I try to get into the Beacon of Light I slide increasingly deeper into the Dark.

I am afraid of THAT darkness. Nothing good can come from within it’s demonic fog.

Definitely not the tears. They are tears of a 61 year old man. One who lived a tragic but full life.

My being raised in the latter 50’s and 60’s gifted me with a learned, but unwanted red neck rampage attitude towards a relationship.

Sprinkle that with the chauvinistic and bigoted attitudes of that era and you will see how it did my young pubescent self no good.

I left my father’s home at the age of 12. I have never slept in my Father’s, nor my Mother’s, home since. This alone should show testimony as to the dancing pool of hormones and rebellions in my mind.

I didn’t cry then.

I never cried.

No.

Not through the beatings.

The tortures.

Nor the loveless foster homes.

I definitely was that boy. The one who WON’T cry.

I am crying now, though. I do not know why.

I am just crying (again).

I was lonely most of my life. The “Stranger in a Strange Land“. The boy who refused to cry. No matter what was hurting him.

To put it in layman’s lingo:

“I have been lonely since October 5th, 1957. I will be even more lonely come October 5th, this year.”

I have been battling personal demons all my live long days. I have never shed as many tears in a few week period as I have shed these past five weeks.

This causes me grief. Greatly.

I developed insomnia – seems to have patterned itself into four days of being wide awake and one day of rest. Leaving my mind to ask,

How many tears does it take to fill a broken heart?”

I am a starving author – (literally)

That calls for a weakened physical state and a mind full of swirling emotions. All of which give the Dark entranceway to the control room of my LightHouse. The demon tries his best to win, but each prayer are bullets of Light.

Especially since I have had to fight the Demon of Suicide 24 hours each day since my beloved spleen exploded and left me crying in the rain.

My last few posts show how I have crawled backwards.

I am trying to bounce back. It’s hard. I am not sure I want to be here.

I fear not Death. Not in the least.

Sad to actually say that.

I would not try suicide. Since my brother committing such I was quickly schooled on being a survivor.

Also, August 22, 2002 I succeeded in killing myself. After a four hour battle in my basement to revive and to stabilize my body, I now sit here before you.

Poring out my inner thoughts and my broken moments. My soul with all it’s hidden secrets would lay before you.

A guess would be that one who cries this many tears is depressed beyond depression. Sad beyond sadness.

Yet, it’s a truth.

I cry still.

I wish I knew the real reason.

I am tired. So very tired.

Physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally I am the sinking of the Bismark.

I am done venting on you.

I am too old to be crying.

Yet …….. I am crying once again and even still shall I cry forever more.

My only regret is I know not THE REAL REASON I have this half full bucket of silent tears.

Perhaps the 2 stage 4 cancers?

Maybe because I am single.

Or maybe my loneliness.

Or because I am realizing that I am not considered as Maria’s “man“. That we aren’t on any channel.

To be officially known as her “man” would be an honor. I would be the happiest man ever.

But, the Darkness has prevented that.

It may very well be that I am dying.

Any how …

I am crying real tears.

Perhaps even the tears of a clown.

I Am Scared

Was all excited yesterday when I heard I was soon to go home, (Thursday), then an hour later, BAM!!!

I was a completely different person.

Very ill, extremely lathargic, dizzy, confused and in pain beyond comprehension.

I slept from one in the afternoon yesterday till 6 this morning. How does anyone sleep 17 hours?

Doctors are increasing my Fentanyl to 75 milligrams. “To make me comfortable ” was their words. I have found in the past that when doctors say such things to patients with terminal illnesses, what they really mean is they won’t let you die in pain.

I am not being paranoid. I was told from the get go that my chances of survival were slim. For 2 months I have heard everyday how everyone is amazed I have “made it” this far. Add in the constant use of words like make me comfortable, use as much pain medication as I feel I need, and then there are the constant “team meetings”.

And yesterday they asked how I felt about going into a hospice. No one walks out of a hospice.

All this makes you think the worse.

I have asked for a case conference later today because if what I suspect is true just send me home to be with my dogs.

But, I won’t know for sure until they all get at the same table and tell me. It’s hard when there are so many professionals involved. 2 regular oncologists, 2 radiation oncologists, 1 ENT surgeon, a whole team of pain palative care and five or six others from dieticians, physio and psychology.

Until then all I can do is pray and pray I will.

For Those Who Wonder Where I Have Been

As most of you know in late October I was diagnosed with Squamous Cell Carcinoma and Pharyngeal Cancer.

Due to the advance stage conventional chemotherapy and radiation were off the table.

My only options being surgery to completely remove my tongue, larynx and most everything else within my neck or radical radiation treatments twice a day for 20 days and see what the result would be.

I, of course, opted for the radiation. I began treatment in early December.

I had to have a gastric feeding tube implanted as I would definitely need it as treatment progressed.

I was doing well until early January when I developed a very large abscess in my lower abdominal cavity between my stomach and muscles.

Mind you, this abscess had nothing whatsoever to do with the cancers or the feeding tube. It just decided to appear and grow and grow.

The fine surgeons here at Princess Margaret Cancer Hospital immediately dealt with the demon infection. Part of the process involved inserting a necessary draining tube.

If it were not for bad luck I would have no luck at all.

Hence, I had many complications from the drainage tube requiring me to spend most of January in the hospital.

Fortunately, I was still receiving my radiation therapy as per scheduled.

The infection took a fair amount of time to get cleared up and by the end of January 2019 I was declared infection free and discharged to home.

I would resume my radiation therapy as an outpatient as per the original plan of care. I was so happy to finally get to go home after almost a whole month of hospitalization.

I arrived home February first. Very sore, but happy.

I slept well the first night. The second night I had a slight pain in my back but I put that off as getting used to sleeping on my own bed instead of the hospital bunk.

I am not sure what time I woke up that morning.

What I am sure of is that I woke to the most excruciating pain you could possibly imagine.

The pain was so intense I could not even scream for help. I literally had to call to the next room to wake my good friend who was watching over me.

I honestly thought I was going to die.

Immediately she called 911 and within minutes I was in an ambulance with a police escort rushing me to the nearest hospital at full speed.

All I remember about the ambulance ride was the EMS man telling the driver they had mere minutes to get me to surgery. My blood pressure was 49 over 43.

I passed out.

Next memory was surreal – I was in an elevator, someone was cutting my shirt off and I heard the surgeon say,

I have to open him right now.”

I felt the scalpel cutting through my abdomen and I saw my blood covering everyone in the elevator.

I passed out.

I awoke many hours later in ICU.

Surrounded by my family and dearest loved ones. I was not sure if I was alive or dead. But, when I blinked my eyes, everyone single one of them cried and I knew I had survived something very serious.

My spleen had literally exploded. Like a small nuclear bomb.

Apparently I had lost almost all my blood – if not for my living so close to a hospital I definitely would not be here to author this blog.

I spent one week in the Michael Garron Hospital in East York, Toronto. Bless the surgeons there for saving my life.

I was then discharged from there do I could go into Toronto General Hospital as an in-patient and then transferred across the street to Princess Margaret Cancer Hospital where I am now.

It sounds complicated but Toronto General, Princess Margaret, Mount Sinai and a few other medical facilities are all side by side and part of the same University Health Network and also connected to The University Toronto.

I am in one of the highest rated cancer hospitals in the world and I am forever thankful that the Creators have given me yet another chance to live.

My road to recovery is going to be a long difficult journey. The spleen is an important organ. Yes, you can live without it, but I need many vaccinations and for the rest of my days I will have to be very vigilant not to get infections and such.

My radiation therapy is back on track and I finish my first series of treatments on March the first. Which is also my oldest son’s birthday – so I take that as an omen of good fortune.

I will write more at some point down the road. I just wanted my followers to know why they haven’t heard from me in a while.

People, look around at your family and friends and let them know how precious they are to you. Life can change in the blink of an eye. Or the pop of a spleen. Never be afraid to tell them you love them.

I am a tough old dude with very tough masculine friends and I have no qualms hugging them, kissing them and saying, “I love you Brother. “

The greatest gift I received from this disaster was seeing my dearest and most close friend standing there with love and joy in his eyes when I blinked that first blink. To see my sons faces fill with relief when I spoke.

Life is a precious gift and to have life and love together cannot be matched by any other thing.

Namaste’

I Cannot ‘DO’ This

I have tried and tried to keep myself on the positive side of all this.

I knew if I were to start crying the tears wouldn’t stop.

I realize now that there is no positive side.

And the tears will not stop.

For where lays the positive side of dying a slow, very painful death?

Show me.

My Maria Angelica M who had said she would always be there for me through out this has up and walked away.

Her false vows of love meant nothing to her – easy to say, but much to me on this tearful darkened day.

Her anger misplaced on my shoulders leaving a trail of blame on my heart.

I am losing my home. I have no time to find a place before months end.

I have lost my beloved Maria Angelica M or perhaps she has lost me.

I have the love of Roy, Dakota, Lisa, Randy & Emma in my immediate life.

I have the extended love of family & my many friends.

But, as I have feared, the tears are here and they just will not stop.

Where is that shoulder to cry on Maria Angelica M?

Oh yes, I forgot.

They were texted with false nailed fingers and etched onto my heart.

Some falsehood testimonials of how we would never be apart.

I discovered one lie after another and and the blame you sent to my heart.

Your love and devotion were quite easily redirected and here is the saddest part.

Your reason for running to another was the most hurtful part.

It took you but one minute to easily rip out my heart and here I do quote the answer you sent to me and destroyed this foolish heart.

I “pissed you off so you turned around”. and abandoned me for your love was a lie from the start.

I needed that shoulder to cry on. But in your deceit towards me you had already found some other arms to hold you so lovingly sweet.

I was shown by a mutual friend and saw through my own eyes on your Facebook these words you did speak.

They were not written for me, but another love in your life.

You may as well etched them with a knife for they have scarred my broken heart.

I needed your false love, if only to get through this one storm.

Then like the many other times in six years you could roam night after night.

And once again leave me crying at home for yet one more night.

I needed that shoulder. I needed your false love, if only to get through this one storm.

For a false love is better than no love when your whole world has fallen apart.

Now, like the skies out this hospital window, my very heart and soul have turned stormy and dark.

For …..

These tears are too real and the pain is too great.

For this broken man named Dann whose soul needs a break.

These tears are embarrassing as I sit here on display.

And pray to the Creator above to take me this day.

I will cross into oblivion when Death has her way.

How easy it was to deceive me with the words of love you say.

I know I sound foolish and broken for believing the love you did say.

I was raised never to say I love you unless the love would forever stay.

I cannot stop loving you forever more each day.

For my love is more real than your hurtful display.

#LightHouseDannVerner #FuckCancer

D-day 4 Dann

I have cancer on my mind.

Literally ….. true story.

As I previously wrote, I have been diagnosed with ‘oropharyngeal cancer’ in the neck and my cranium.

Which has migrated into my skull proper.

Hence soon, if not already, ‘brain cancer‘.

So,

Deja Vu.

Once again it’s 4:20AM and here I sit, awake. Day 4 without sleep.

The physical pain is insane.

Yet, my broken ‘heart’ & ‘spirit’ are far worse.

I cried all last night over a personal matter and the stress of waiting for the upcoming news.

And, Deja Vu.

Here I sit crying like a pussy once again.

The second night in a row.

Mostly over the personal matter of learning that I am being perceived as ‘dishonest’ and a liar regarding my vows of love & of friendship.

I am or have been a murderer, a robber, a gangster, a thief and an idiot.

BUT a dishonest lover I am not, nor could I ever be.

I was self-raised on these streets since the age of 12.

I learned young that your ‘Love’ for your partner MUST be true and definitely sincere. You cannot say that you love someone and then cheat or lie to them.

I take pride in my loyalty, my love, my devotion and most of all my ‘HONESTY’. These are the cornerstones of any couple.

Anyone who knows me well knows I am not dishonest. I do not, have not, nor would I ever ‘cheat’.

I know the pain that inflicts all too well.

I am not dishonest in love.

I don’t lie about my emotions.

Nor would I play with the heart of anyone – friend or foe.

Who would want to claim a false love as real love” ?

No soul has the right to do such an evil thing. No person should ever damage another person in such a sadistic manner.

Many people contort the definition of “love”.

I learned very young that if you say something it should be sincere and honest.

I love my ‘Queen’.

The love I have for her cannot be shared with anyone else. I have given her all my heart. As you are supposed to when you swear your love.

She is my true soul mate, my lover, she’s my best friend. She is “mi Corazon“.

And one Corazon is all you get.

I have many friends.

The majority being females. Guys are idiots. My circle is a triangle.

I tell them both, male or female, that I love them all the time. I do love them. They are my friends.

But, not the way I “love” mi Corazon.

Definitely not in a sexual way.

It is not that type of “love”. It’s the love you show a ‘true friend’.

A completely different type of love.

Secondly,

My tears also have been falling as I am coming to the realization that I may have to face that ‘final‘ ….

Walk With Dann” .

That torturous, downward spiral of pain ending in the horrific death of cancer eating my brain like an invisible zombie.

61 years of hurt I endured so far.

The majority via a broken heart. Time after time. Over and over.

I don’t fear loving just because I have been a victim of dishonesty.

You cannot punish your future for what your past ‘has’ done. (Key word being ‘HAS’).

I am tired. Very, very tired.

Not sure if I should try to battle this battle or succumb to the depression and sadness perched upon my shoulders.

Death would be so relaxing. I know first hand.

You can’t cry over being perceived as a dishonest person when you are dead.

For to live and share your honest, deepest feelings to people who do not believe a word you speak is a real ‘Hell’.

Read my ‘Walk With Dann Collection’. I explain how your perception of ‘Heaven & Helheim’ are not as you are taught or even perceive them to be.

I am tired of adult life.

I am very, very, very tired.

And now it is D DAY 4 Dann

Later today I will receive either the worse news anyone would wish to hear,

or, perhaps the medium bad news stating a long list of parts to be removed,

or, good news saying that they can remove all the cancer and I shall live lonely ever after.

Yahoo!!!!!!

Good news for some people … not so much me.

I am tired.

Very tired.

I am all alone in a crowded room.

That room called ‘life‘.

And I am tired.

As we say in Nazarim, “Hineni”

“I’m ready my Lord”.

Life‘ number 8 was far more painful the my 7 times ‘dead‘.

I have mixed emotions over the cancer and what course of action I should follow.

Right now 70% of me is saying to refuse all and every treatment, come home, sit on my favourite chair and wait for death.

I want to.

I am not ‘living‘ – I am merely ‘existing’.

I am tired of existing.

30% of me hopes everything will workout and I will be happy.

But, how can a man perceived by his truest love as a liar and dishonest man find reasoning to fight has third battle with the demon desease?

And I am tired, very tired.

I guess I will find the answer to that question in exactly five hours and sixteen minutes.

Life has to have meaning. My dictionary of life is completely used up.

I honestly do not wish to go on existing without meaning.

No matter what, I have had a 61 year wild Nantucket Sleigh ride through every walk of life there is.

And now …….

I am tired.

I look forward to Valhalla or Helheim.

Be it sooner or much later.

I will smile as I enter either.

For then my heart will no longer hurt, nor my eyes bleed tears of heart ache.

I am an honest man. I believe strongly I am.

And I would never cheat on a soul I pledged my heart to.

I have a huge decision to make today.

It’s a literal ‘life or death‘ choice I must make.

At this time I am leaning towards ‘no treatment’.

We will see what happens at the hospital.

I am tired and I want to go home.

Plus, I ain’t looking so well …

Diagnosis: Cancer In The Neck And Head

So,since June, 2018 my throat increasingly grew more irritated and sore to the point I could no longer stand it.

On October 22, 2018 I saw an ENT specialist.

Diagnosis: cancer in my neck and head.

I fought the Big C demon twice before in my life.

1999 till 2002 I battled liver cancer. I was scared.

I just had my neck re-built. A result of thirty years of demolition, building and a very rough lifestyle. Followed by many motorcycle accidents and an industrial accident.

They did a complete dissection of my C2, C3, C5 & C6 vertebrae. Replacing them with bone donated from my right hip and Semple plates, screws, nuts & bolts.

And then the Creators slapped me with liver cancer.

Yet, I beat that Beast.

In 2005, the Beast demanded a re-match. This time it was gnawing on my bones.

Chewing up the hip I had donated bone from for the previous neck surgery.

Then attacking my few remaining teeth. Leaving me with six remaining.

As if not enough, it then chewed up my right foot resulting in it, too, needing to be completely re-built.

So, I beat that damn Beast again.

Now fast forward to present day…..

What I had hoped was merely a “sore” throat has turned out to be a collection of cancerous tumors on my tonsils, adenoids, lymph nodes and migrating towards my brain.

As I write this I am awaiting a CT scan and a following surgery. It shall hopefully be within the next two weeks.

They will be removing the afore mentioned parts and perhaps more – including my thyroid.

This does not trouble me. That would be the migration of tumors working their way towards my brain.

I like my brain. It’s iconic and extremely unique. Plus, we are very attached. Been together since my birth.

I only weight one hundred pounds with my clothes on. I jokingly say that my body is built like a rock band, “Nine Inch Nails” – for that is the size of my biceps.

It took 61 years to break this body.

You could go to the gym everyday and never be built like me.

I can barely eat. My esophagus is being pinched closed by the swelling organs and tumors within my throat.

My head aches beyond the pain of a severe migraine. I shed tears and find myself whimpering when I have solitary solitude. My nights are long.

I refused chemotherapy and radiation. It would definitely kill me if I were to attempt it

So, I will beat this damn Beast one more time.

I have to. My sons need me, I need them.

Mi fuego de mi Alma, mi Reina de mi Corazon would be broken hearted if the Beast should win.

I love her beyond love. I cannot allow her to suffer a broken heart. What type of person would break their closest love’s heart?

You can feel our love emanating from us in this picture.

I CANNOT LET MY BODY SUCCUMB TO THE RAVAGES OF CANCER!

HOW COULD I BREAK MY FAMILY AND LOVED ONE’S HEARTS?

And also, my other dearest loves. My constant companions, Princess Pringle and her sister, Princess Ruffles. They would surely fall I’ll in sorrow.

Sooooooo, I have a battle ahead of me. I am ready.

I have love from so many people – my kids, my ex-wife, my soulmate Maria, my very close nephews and true friends

I will beat this Demon.

It is just going to hurt.

Lol

But, she will be by my side. And I will receive healing from her love.

I am afraid, but I am also brave.

Which One Of Us Is ‘Different”?

Many people do not understand what they call “Mental Health“.

How do you explain the battle with your demons to someone that has been trained to believe that ‘different‘ is wrong?

Is ‘different‘ wrong?

Because to we who suffer through the constant battle of ‘personality disorders‘ YOU are the ‘different‘ one.

I do not believe in any of the labels society has placed on people.

I DO believe we all suffer from personality ‘conflicts’.

Every soul on this planet suffers the same stresses and have the same emotions as everyone else. We all live in the same space/time continuum. We all eat, drink and breathe the same.

We are all homo sapiens living on the same Big Blue Marble.

I have many demons who are constantly looking to diminish my everyday life. They do their best to bring anger, tears, sorrow and carelessness to the forefront.

I do get tired of battling them. I do give up on occasions.

I don’t want to, but, I get tired.

Damn, I get tired.

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Real tired! I am tired now.

I have no fight left in me.

Which leaves me in a quandary.

Do I wear myself out and try to stay “LightHouse“?

Or do I walk backwards and become “Shake“?

Or do I escape into my mind and live life as “Dann“?

Or should I allow my mind to burst and revert to the infant “Boo Boo“?

Boo Boo works, spend the rest of my years as a parentless child with a shitty diaper and speaking only gibberish.

Dann presents problems because he is fake as can be. The smiling face society says is ‘proper‘.

LightHouse is who I strived to be.  He is a nice man. Educated, loyal and truthful.

Unfortunately.

LightHouse gets hurt often.

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His smile is real. The reason he smiles is because society shuns those who do not wear the mask of the sheep.

But, I am no “sheep“.

Yes, I am having what you perceive as “psychological” disorders.

The disorders being that I refuse to be fake and I will not be commanded, I will not be controlled and I definitely will not let my life go on without a little help from my soul.

I will go on – maybe – maybe not.

I have published the fourth and closing chapter of my life – “Unkz, A Canadian Cosmonaut”.

My ‘Walk With Dann Collection‘ shows well the battles I have fought trying to conform to the sheepdom of society life.

Now, if I were to die tomorrow, and no one were to remember me, there lays a permanent record of my lives and my seven previous deaths.

Forever out there in paper form and the evil virtual reality of the unrealistic internet.

We need to stop labelling.

We need to stop being clones of each others perceptions.

Simple as that.

Namaste’

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Unkz - A Canadian Cosmonaut

These Are My Published Books To Date

Last week I published my third volume of my “Walking On Dawes Collection”
This collection shows how no matter how fantastic you believe ganglife to be, Miss Karma and her brother, Mr. Chaos always wins in the end.

Today I published “Unkz, A Canadian Cosmonaut” the fourth and final volume of my “Walk With Dann Collection”.

The last chapter of my life, or as I should say, my various lives.

I pray that my honesty and confessions will touch at least one soul and prevent them from making the wrong choices I have made.

All my works are available at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B078JNX5WV

 

https://www.goodreads.com/LightHouseVerner

 

I write my books for me.

I tell my stories for my readers.

I am not sure if my works are badly written good stories or well written bad stories.

Not too sure I care either way. I do care that, in my “Walk With Dann Collection”, I am telling my life as brutally truthful as possible. In shame and in honour.

I do care that my ‘stand alone’ books, such as “The Last Canadian Cosmonaut” touch your heart.

I pray that my other collection, “Walking On Dawes”, shows that the gang life, although often ‘exciting’, leads only to karma biting your buttocks.”

My Walk With Dann Collection

Volumes 1, 2 & 3

Damaged” is my first book.

Like me, it is raw and full of mistakes.

I have left it “unedited” as life has left me.

DAMAGED”

Walk With Dann Collection

Volume 1

A Walk from my birth till I meet my second wife.”


It is rough, crude in fact, numerous format conversion errors.

I left It raw on purpose as a testament to the honesty of my words and work.

It contains humour, murder, explosions and motorcycles.

It may or may not be fictional or may even be non-fictional.”

BANE

Walk With Dann Collection

Volume 2

Walks you through my middle years and three decades of marriage.”

It does not contain the excitement of it’s predecessor.”

It begins to show you who I was and who I was becoming.”

 

BOON”

Walk With Dann Collection

Volume 3

Walks you deep into my personal life of trials and tribulations and my uniquely twisted none the norm perception of my realty.”

“Unkz, A Canadian Cosmonaut”

Volume 4 – Walk With Dann Collection

Unkz - A Canadian Cosmonaut

There are deeply complicated thoughts that haunt you, when you well know you are insane.

Insane by their standard.

I believe I am just Dann, just as I am.

I am not like others.

I am not them.

I am me.

Yet, there are multiple “me’s”.

And they are all I can or should be.

As the previous confessions of my life told within my first work, “Damaged, tells, I am, ‘broken

Began at birth.

Blue baby.

Unplanned child.

Unwanted but wanted.

And left to die before I had lived.

Only my deepest consciousness knows what I have experienced.

To keep my spirit alive my mind vaulted those days far in the depths of the encrypted memories.

Never to be re-lived.

Never to scar my soul once more.

Now, I am sixty-one years old and it is time for me to end this “Walk With Dann Collection” with this, my final volume.

To give closure to the three previous quarters of my numerous lives.

I am not soon to ascend.

But, my Walk With Dann Collection must contain a sincere final volume of my most innermost beliefs and thoughts.

For I cannot author them after I reach my own personal concept of Valhalla.

A final confession of both my rights and my wrongs.

I will utter exact truths, I will hold no quarter from exposing who I have become in the final quarter of a Canadian Cosmonaut’s life.

My life has been no different than yours.

My strife, my loves, my sorrows, my learning and my battlefield are far different than yours.

I present to you ………….

“Unkz, A Canadian Cosmonaut”

So, come, Walk With Dann.

THE LAST CANADIAN COSMONAUT”

(My first ‘standalone book‘ and my personal favorite.)

TLCC (2)

THE LAST CANADIAN COSMONAUT”

Here are the opening pages

The smell of the ocean danced on my nostrils as I walked, slipping and sliding, across the flats. My eyes darting to and fro, carefully scanning ahead for sink holes.

I should have been walking the other direction. Towards the junior high school. Towards hippie teachers trying to teach me of science, faith and nature.

I could hear the train in the distance. Pulling it’s tonnage of sugar cane around the bend to the refinery.

The tug boats crested the horizon. Their wake spewing behind them as they pushed against the mighty tanker so as to slow it’s unforgiving momentum. Lest it run ashore.

The shore. My foster home was there. High up the hill. It’s windows like two large eyes, taunting me with guilt.“Go to school“, they seemed to say.

I can’t”, my reply.”

Walking On Dawes Collection

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I WANT TO BE ‘FLOKI’”

Walking On Dawes Collection”

Volume 1”

This is a tale of a family who live their lives within the gang life. Except Little Ray. He and his family want him to break the cycle and live a normal life.”

There is tragedy, laughter and most of all ‘insight’ within.

Big Roy - Dedication

So come with us as we

Walk On Dawes.”

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You Can’t See Me”

Walking On Dawes Collection

Volume 2

This is a portrait of a broken man living a broken life in a broken world where family and friendship are one and the same.

Where wrong choices can lead to lifelong regrets. Haunting the very soul and stabbing the heart daily to remind you of the penalties of actions.

Where a man can be all alone and un-noticed in a crowded room.

Where sadness shadows joy and joy masks sadness.

This is the life of one man on one street in one city.”

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6315 – The Original Urban Viking”

Walking On Dawes Collection”

Volume 3”

Life can be unfair. It can be brutal.

Especially for an inner city young man growing up in the projects.

This is a tale of such a man. A man who walked many paths. Who made choices – good and bad. Who experienced love, hate, joy and sadness and bears the scars to show their result.

A man who chose the path of gang life over grade school classes. A man who’s rocking horse was a Harley Davidson. His playground was the streets. His graduation was held in a Federal Penitentiary.

A man who found remorse and regrets haunting him throughout his adulthood.

A man who wanted out.

A man who wished for peace in his soul and calmness in his heart.

His name,

6315 – The Original Urban Viking”

6315 Back Cover

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My Seventh Book Is Published

“6315 – The Original Urban Viking” – Volume 3 of my Walking On Dawes Collection is now published.

So come travel the world with 6315. He hasn’t been right since t accident.