Tag Archives: death

The Fear of Cancer

Not often I have ‘fear‘.

I have it now. I fear that I may not beat this cancer.

I was diagnosed on October 22nd, 2018, with Pharyngeal and Squamous Cell Carcinoma. Stage four.

I was past the ability to be treated via chemotherapy and conventional radiation. My only three options were let nature take her course or surgery to remove my complete tongue and lymph nodes (leaving me with zero quality of life) or receive radical aggressive radiation.

I chose the latter. Receiving a double session twice per day for twenty days. The actual treatment was easy. Just lay down, strapped in a cage and a mere fifteen minutes listening to Pink Floyd as the machine’s robotic arms did their task.

I was pleased when on March the first I completed the therapy and was told it had succeeded in killing all the tumors.

What I didn’t understand at that time was the worse part comes after the therapy. As the tumors diminished the damage from the radiation and cancer surfaces. This, apparently, can go on for up to two years.

My throat swelled and on the exterior turned purple. A side affect of the radiation burn and dying tissues within.

I had a few complications during the course of treatment. I developed a huge abscess in my lower abdominal cavity, possibly from the feeding g-tube implant. It required minor surgery to remove and drain. This was followed by a major battle with septicemia. A battle I thankfully won.

I was released from the Princess Margaret Cancer Center on January 31, 2019. After being hospitalized for twenty seven days. I was glad to be home.

At four in the morning of February the 2nd my spleen exploded. I bled out and have only survived because I live blocks from the Michael Garron Hospital. I was revived. Received four pints of blood, rapid infusion of Ringers lactate, a litre of iron sucrose and twenty nine staples on my abdomen. Complete removal of my spleen.

I spent all of February and half of March in Princess Margaret. My weight dropped down to ninety seven pounds. A far cry from my average one hundred and seventy.

I look like a survivor from a Nazi Death Camp.

I was sent home mid March to complete my treatment as an out-patient.

Things were well at first. I could not swallow most food so I was dependant on six cans of condensed Isosource nutrients to feed my body. I managed to get my weight up to one hundred and twenty-two pounds.

But, a big but, the damage from the tumors and radiation was surfacing more and more. The pain of swallowing increasingly getting worse. To the point I feared swallowing even my saliva.

This I am still plagued with as I write.

My weight loss increased and depression tried to take over my logic. I feared that I would definitely die. I have that fear still, as do my caregivers.

No longer able to function properly I resigned myself to the reality of coming back into the hospital.

Presently, I am hospitalized in the magnificent Toronto General Hospital. A Blessing of living in Toronto with the world class treatment of Toronto General and the adjoined Princess Margaret Cancer Center. Two of the best hospitals worldwide.

If I lived anywhere else I am positive I would not be authoring this blog on this foggy Sunday morning.

I am not sure what is to happen to me next. Neither are my team of doctors.

I have been here a mere few days, having been admitted on the twenty four of May. So, I am awaiting the results of my MRI, CT Scan and numerous other tests.

Tomorrow I have to have minor surgery to re-implant a gastric feeding tube and biopsy of my tongue and throat.

So far my diagnosis is as follows:

1) as my body absorbed the dead tumors it left behind holes, like potholes in a road. These ‘holes‘ have developed ulcers.

2) The ulcers can be one of three types. (A) non-cancerous, (B) Cancerous but treatable and (C) Cancerous non-treatable

3) I am severely malnourished and dehydrated.

Hopefully, by tomorrow evening I will know for sure what battle lays before me.

I am a ‘realist’. Hence, I take things in stride. It is what it is and I will deal with whatever falls my way with logic over emotions.

I also trained myself to always expect the worse possible scenarios. Reason being if I am expecting the worse no matter what my diagnosis is to be it shall be better than what I expected. A small comfort in such a serious situation.

I am not being unrealistic in my expectations. I am in a serious situation.

After many discussions with all my treatment team and my beloved family, I made the difficult decision to put in place a DNR, (Do Not Resuscitate), on my medical record.

This is justified and many tears were shed coming to the decision. It is the best avenue to take considering the condition of my physical form. My bone density is very low which means that if I were to receive CPR my ribs would shatter. Greater risk is that my heart and poor physical condition makes it ninety nine percent positive I will slip into a coma – a coma I will not recover from.

I pray no one ever has to have this discussion with their family. It was/is the most heartbreaking talk I have ever imagined having to have.

Saddest part being the reaction of my family and friends. I, being the patient, fully have accepted that I am knocking on the gates of Valhalla. I did not wish to accept it, but it is what it is.

I also have refused any major surgery that will disfigure and disable me. I refuse wholeheartedly to have my love ones suffer the anguish of watching me whither away, perhaps for weeks or months. That would scar their very souls for life. It would be selfish of me to put them through such.

They understand. They don’t like accepting it, but, once again, it is what it is.

I am not, by far, a ‘religious’ man. I am a man of faith. I believe in a higher, supreme power. Over the past 15 years I have been brought back to life 9 times so far. I wrote about these times previously. It’s suffice to say my life has been full of numerous ups and downs. Often down. It strengthened my personality and outlook on life. To most they would say my life was tragic. I see it as just ‘my life’. Sixty-one and a half years of learning and growth.

So, as it stands today, I have a battle to win. And I shall win because I am surrounded by true caring and love. I have a large group of beautiful souls who have formed a ‘Prayer Army’ on my behalf. Believe or not, but there is a power in prayers. They don’t have to be church indoctrinated chants, but rather sincere and positive praise to whoever you perceive as your Creator.

I am anxious to get the results of the tests tomorrow. The waiting and the fear of what may be is far more disheartening than the cancers themselves. The fear of the unknown instills an anxiety that clouds judgement.

I prefer sunny days over cloudy ones.

So, I will leave you now and I will blog whatever happens next in my wonderful life as soon as I know.

Until then, I remain ‘Dann, just as I am – – – The Original Urban Viking’.

NAMASTE’ MY FRIENDS

And remember to ……

ALWAYS PRAY IT FORWARD

BLESS

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Kapitulation

Many have surely noticed by now that my emotions and writings are up and down more than elevator at a tourist attraction.

I apologize for that.

I am going through so much, … too much, for me to quell the demons.

I apologize.

I never expected that by my becoming a victim of cancer it would cost me all the things most dear to me.

My home = gone

My son = gone

My dogs = gone

My truest love = gone

My physical body = gone

My innermost soul = gone

It has to be me. Every day it’s the same subliminal accusations. So, I must be doing some sort of low life activity that I am unaware of.

It’s the only logical explanation.

In my day, it was said that if someone constantly accuses you of doing something then it was THEY who are hiding secrets.

I do not believe that either, though.

I feel like a damn broken recording, but, I will repeat this one more time :

I may be a dangerous man, a killer, a thief, a biker, a nomad. BUT ….. I never lie about how truly I love someone. Only a low life piece of crap would play with another souls emotions. It is one of the worse things you can do to anyone – playing Russian roulette with their hearts and souls.

Cancer is evil. It takes control over your family and close friend’s emotions and tries to wreak havoc every way it may.

Often it wins and destroys the patient and his/her family ties.

Many marriages fall apart due to the complexity of what comes with a cancer diagnosis.

I am tired, very tired. Mainly emotionally, but very much physically, also.

I have had so much happen in the past two years.

Fall and winter 2017/2018 – nine surgeries on my kidneys, and bladder.

Removed my gall bladder.

One third of my liver removed.

Spring 2018 – repair and replace part of the hardwear holding my right foot together.

Followed shortly thereafter by yet another heart attack.

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Summer 2018 – seizures started. It was determined they are being caused by residual damaged from when they removed C2, C3, C5 and C6 vertebrae and the spinal cord and brain damage from the shattered neck.

Fall 2018 – shot in the leg by a nice black man on Dawes Road. Wrong place at the right time.

Early October diagnosed with Pharyngeal carcinoma, Stage 4 – 19 tumors in my head, neck and upper chest area.

Exactly one week to the day I received the diagnosis of the Squamous Cell carcinoma, it also is Stage 4. One very large tumor on the base of my tongue and one smaller tumor on either side 3 close to my heart and 3 additional ones in the frontal lobe area of my beautiful brain.

Both cancers too far past conventional treatments.

My two options consisted of complete removal of my tongue and most everything in my neck cavity

or

take part in a human trial and complete a very radical and complex series of radiation therapy.

Hence, I chose the latter.

January 2019 – while hospitalized for treatments they found an extremely large existing abscess in my lower abdominal cavity.

This abscess was existing for Lords know how long and was not related to the cancers or previous conditions. 

One week after the removal of the abscess I had a drain tube malfunction that tore up more of my intestines and such. It manifested into a full blown septicemia battle. Almost died twice during the battle to survive.

February 2019 – after being home only two nights on February 2nd my spleen explodes in my sleep and I bleed out. Eventually I would go through 8 litres of my rare blood. But for the grace of God I am still here today.

Miraculously, they kept me alive and I was able to get discharged from the Micheal Garron Hospital and re-admitted to Princess Margaret Cancer Hospital.

March 1st 2019 – I successfully finished the radical radiation sessions.

Very successful in killing the both types of tumors.

Or so we had thought ……..

April 2019 – 7 Squamous Cell tumors return.

Come May 6th, 2019 I will receive a complete and more complex updated diagnosis of my situation.

Until then, I remain, Dann – just as I am.

Broken

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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 …

Be a Lover Not a Liar.

I died the day I started to live.

I lived the day after I died.

Sounds strange. This I know.

What is death to you?

I won’t get into the details of my times experiencing death. I have wrote many blogs and a few books concerning that.

Death changed my perspective of life. It brought a sacred logic to the way I look at everyday existence.

Life became more precious and at the same time became lackadaisical. It is black and white with gray areas.

The gray areas are what defines our quality of life.

Wander too far into the gray and you may become trapped in a lightless world.

All living life requires ‘light’.

The greatest thing I have learned in my 61 years is that life without ‘Light’ can never be enjoyable.

Modern society has become so automated and stressful that the average soul only ‘exists’. They are alive but not living.

Love has become a mere word. It is spoken too freely. It has become almost meaningless to many.

Love is a word I speak ONLY when I truly mean it. If I tell you that I love you then I mean my heart, my soul and my whole existence loves you.

This is a simple but very deep message.

Don’t lie about loving and for God’s sake don’t love lying.

Do not play god with the hearts of others. No person has the right to destroy another person’s life.

Never ever cheat on a partner you have told you love. For by doing so you become a soulless liar.

Be a lover not a liar.

Let’s bring morality back into society.

Until then, I remain, Dann – just as I am.

EVEN TOUGH GUYS SHED TEARS

I have had the anguish of  losing many friends and family over the past sixty-one years.

I have lost a few of my children.

My mother was murdered and made me promise on her death bed not to retaliate. Hard promise to keep, yet, I kept it.

I normally do not cry over death.

But, I cry over my dear friend’s, Sheena Eve’s, passing. It was such a tragic one.

I cry everyday. Every morning. Every night.

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When I awake and she is the first thought in my mind, I know she is telling me all will work out. I miss her and so do all of her friends. Sheena Eve was a living Angel and now as she sits in Valhalla she is a celestial Angel.

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Yet, although I shed no tears over my sons passing or even that of my mother, I cry many tears daily over Sheena Eve’s. The only passing in my life that has affected me this way.

My LightHouse gift (curse) of seeing dead people and premonition does not allow me the courtesy  of blocking my emotions.

And therefore every time I see Sheena Eve’s pictures, hear her name or even briefly think of her I cry. No matter where I am. I do so proudly as there is no shame or embarrassment in loving someone so greatly that it hurts.

My tears are painful, but not sorrowful.  They are happy tears formed by having Sheena Eve in my life. For Sheena Eve and our  good friend Miss V having saved my life at the lowest point of my existence. An act of love that I shall ever be grateful for.

Best part of my sorrow is the joy I will have when I ascend.

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I shall die with a smile knowing that this time I will not return like the past seven times I died.

I will take Sheena Eve’s hand, walk to the portal and all will be well. 

She will continue to watch over us from the Heavens. Giving an Angelic hug to those of us who need one. 

My beautiful Irish Guardian Angel


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Until the Creator’s allow us to sit together once again, I shall remain Dann, just as I am

And these tears will always sting my face … — 

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In My Secret Life

We all have many ‘lives‘ per se.

We all have that one secret life. With most it is a harmless secret.

I have put most my lives out there. In blogs and in my novels.

Yet, I have that one life I rarely reveal …….

My ‘secret‘ life.

The one where I cry dry tears, moaning silent cries of regrets and anguish.

To quote Leonard Cohen,

“I bite my lip
I buy what I’m told:
From the latest hit
To the wisdom of old
But I’m always alone
And my heart is like ice
And it’s crowded and cold
In my secret life”

The one that haunts my sleep and steals my rest. Leaving me ashamed and broken.

The one I have no words to describe. The one that stole my happiness in life.

I had a concept of happiness in my life, not to say I had never experienced such. But, I stole that from myself by my refusal to follow my dreams at a younger age. A theft of my future. Robbing myself of what my life could have been if I had dropped the masks of being an old school rebel tainted by my hatred of living.

Perhaps it was my Heroin fogged adolescent years. Or perhaps the intoxicated cloud of my twenties. It may have even been my refusal to secure a solid base for my elder years.

It may be the guilt of stealing away my many children’s futures.

It definitely has led to my self flogging. To my lashing my spiritual back thirteen stripes each and every evening before I lay down to suffer the horrors of flashbacks for crimes of my past.

I have done things most only read about in novels or see upon the screens of televisions during prime time movies.

Things best never revealed. Lest cause more pain for my family and friends.

I have danced with the Devils. I have shared meals with Evil. I have choked down the truth as I concocted lies to cover my tracks. Burying the evidence six cold feet below the eyes of society.

I will dance with the Devils again. In an eternal ballet of penance and regrets. Karma and her brother Chaos have shadowed me for six decades. They await me still in Valhalla.

Perhaps my beloved mother, (ironically her name is ‘Mary‘), saw this at my birth. Thus, leaving me to thrive or die at six months of age.

I have ‘Walked‘ my seven plains of time and space continuum’s. My eighth, the final ‘Walk” we all will stride, shall be my version of your ‘Heaven‘ or far more likely your ‘Hell“.

I already know what awaits me after my final death. Perhaps many years from now when I know it is my time I shall write that final chapter in a book or blog.

Part of my penance has been remembering my first seven cracks at the bat of life. We are not suppose to remember the ‘Seven Walks’. That is a pleasure only those with no guilt get to enjoy. Reserved for those who followed society’s basic rules. Your Ten Commandments, for lack of a better term. I broke nine of the Biblical ten – I have never committed adultery while still with my beloved wife. Having not divorced and having been separated for years, as she went her way and I mine, I have technically committed adultery as defined by their Bible.

In reality, I have never strayed while loving and living with my wife, Jennifer.

“Why eat a cookie when you have a beautiful cake at home?”

All my life I often joked that I was awaiting the return of the ‘Mothership‘. This I now know was my inner child waiting for my mother to return to that cold, damp crib in that empty house and show me a mothers love. I never have had the opportunity to be rewarded with that emotion.

My secret life is/was the pain that moment implanted into my soul. The Mothership will never come. For that ship blasted off to a different world then I shall ever know.

The scars of her choice left me with a defiance and darkness that can not be explained. The only physical evidence being my life of refusing to bend to the ways of man. My strong willed desire to shout blatantly,

“And I will not be commanded
And I will not be controlled
And I will not let my future go on
Without the help of my soul.”
(The Lost Boy – Greg Holden)

But, does one born into evil and abandonment have a soul?

Unfortunately for me, I am not in the position to answer that. For what I experienced while dead seven times I am not able to explain in words. I have detailed most of the experiences as best I could in my books and past blogs.

Some things are best left untold so as not to destroy your concept of life and death.

I have tried to make amends. Hence my inviting you to come “Walk With Dann.” A futile attempt to reach out to hopefully steer one soul away from the path I chose.

My Walks with you can only take you as far as your reality. For my reality is only shared with others who have strode a similar path as I have. I am not the only one to have been cursed with remembering the Seven Walks. Knowing that number eight holds no choice. That there will be only one path the final ride. Not the seven choices we are all given with the first seven. Dante’ knew of these when he scribe his “Inferno”.

The saddest part of all this is that I have many years yet to pay my penance. There lay before me decades carrying the weight of wrongs upon my broken back. I suspect I shall bear this cross till I reach the age of 112. For I have been told by the Creators that I shall live till then. Mind you they lay no guarantee that it will be a pleasant journey. In fact, it will be a painful existence wrought with discomfort and pain.

Physics teaches that for every action there lays an equal yet opposite reaction. Faith teaches the same. Good versus evil – push versus pull. Light versus dark. Truths versus lies.

Each night for nigh on sixty years I have been plagued with sleep not arriving until all my wrongs play out like a collection of short vignettes and seal my eyes into sleep with dry tears and silent screams.

This is my “Secret Life

 

Why I Write

Many ask me why l write. 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.

 

Here is a synopsis of my “Walk With Dann Collection”:

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.

Volume 1, “DAMAGED” takes you on 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.

The second volume, ‘BANE’, 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.

 

 

My third volume, “BOON” Walks you deep into my personal life of trials and tribulations and my uniquely twisted none the norm perception of my realty.

So, come, Walk With Dann.

And my first ‘standalone book‘, my personal favourite,

A fictional journey of a hippie on a Harley exploring the times.

THE LAST CANADIAN COSMONAUT”

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.

And here lays a brief synopsis of my “Walking On Dawes Collection

 

The first volume of the

Walking On Dawes Collection”

I WANT TO BE ‘FLOKI’”

“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.

So come with us as we

Walk On Dawes.”

 

“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.

A man who let his darkness blind his Light.

 

 

The Sparkle of an Angelic Soul

You will have lived a Blessed life if you are fortunate enough to have known at least one true friend’s love.

I have been overly Blessed.

In my lifetimes of learning, chaos, peace, violence, love, hurt, guns and rock & roll I acquired a few such souls.

True friendship. Never a doubt.

Each one taught me love and worth.

Each one SAVED my life at some point.

When my dear Irish Queen, Sheena Eve, ascended I lost faith in the Biblical version of your god.

There lay no logic in her forced ascension.

She was needed here still. Not for only my own selfishness, but for her clients of her professional and devoted career.

I have attended over thirty funerals of friends, Brothers and family.

So many that I now no longer attend funerals.

I am not even going to my own funeral. I donated my physical being to science.

Sheena’s ascension affected me like none other.

Perhaps it is due to the loving care she and my dear friend Victoria Chapman showered me with as they stayed with me 24/7 as I cold turkey went off the doctor prescribed Oxycontin and Fentanyl.

VICTORIA, SHEENA EVE, LEO THE BLUNDER DOG

I would be dead if not for Victoria’s “BodyTalk” treatments and Sheena’s outright truthful Irish wisdoms.

I’m crying now. I will always have tears for her.

My Favorite Photo – Her Sparkle Flows

I am puzzled as to why Sheena Eve’s ascension has bothered me like no other.

More than even my Mother’s murder.

In all honesty, I am crying my heart out as I write. The tears puddling over my heart to quell the hurt.

I cannot speak her name, reflect on a memory or set my eyes upon her picture without shedding tears.

And I understand but do not understand why so many tears.

Her Beauty Has Many Faces

I do know I miss her.

Dearly.

Having my LightHouse ‘gift’ is a Blessing and a curse.

It is entertaining to see dead people in a movie.

It is an acquired skill to see, feel and speak to those who have been Blessed with their final eighth ascension to the Eternal Space/Time Continuum.

I am fortunate to still have Sheena Eve in my daily life.

A Blessing I only wish I could share with her family and our friends.

Sparkle on my friend, sparkle on

My cheeks are aching from holding back these tears, so I will close this now and bawl my heart out.

They will be tears of joy for having shared friendship with you, Sheena Eve.

My heart is full of your Light and protection as you “Walk With Dann”. on this my final “Walk”.

And I welcome the day we sit at the round with love and raise our tankards high and give an Irish cheer.

Till then, yes, I will cry.

Bless be we who shared friendship with you

“Is it any surprise that as I press “publish” Pink Floyd’s “How I Wish You Were Here” starts playing???? Thank you Sheena Eve, thank you.”

Wow, it’s been 19 years since I died the first time

Nineteen years ago tomorrow, March the fifth, 1999 was the first time I died.

I had surgery to remove my C2, C3 and C5 & C6 vertebrae and replace them with pieces of my hip and lots of hardware.

I died during the surgery and they had a very hard time getting me back.

My life changed that day.

It was the catalyst to ending my 32 years of marriage.

It ended my career as an electrician.

It was 19 years of pain.

Yet I remain, Dann, Just as I am