December 2023
1-16
1-16
ONE WORD AT A TIME!
The Big Days
1stStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,566,264
Average Steps Per Day = 22,585 Miles Per Day = 11.3 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 67 Resting Heart Rate = 38 Books Read = 61 Books Wrote = 14 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 271 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
House Cleaning
Our world is crumbling beneath us, and we are each other’s unwitting saboteurs. On the brink of destitution, my family and I teeter. Daily, tears stain my cheeks. My relentless job search weaves into the rhythm of my life—job applications each morning, the scratching of pen on paper each night. But who reads in today’s world, a place where the written word is a relic, on par with background noise at a sports bar? My fear becomes tangible—I am a vestige of a bygone era, wrestling with obsolescence, defiantly proclaiming my relevance. Every dawn, I make my pilgrimage to the Fitness Asylum, but the journey is marred by an unsettling scene. Before me stretches a canvas of human desolation—a congregation of discarded souls camped outside the glass façade of a ubiquitous coffee franchise, a scene straight out of a dystopian Dr. Seuss. This heartrending visage serves as a bitter reminder of society’s blind eye. Comfortably numb passersby wrestle with discomfort; their judgments are swift, their solutions simplistic—assimilate, conform, strive. How bitterly ironic it is to demand such from those consigned to the edges of our world, where survival is a herculean task. Amongst the sanctimonious voices of ignorance, I teeter on the brink—an unwelcome epiphany of who I must shed from my life’s orbit. Each morning, they loom—a mere decisions away—even as I stride toward the temple of self-improvement, vowing not to join the ranks of those condemned to the curb. I am not destined for the cold concrete, not meant to find solace in the harsh warmth of foil-wrapped relief. The world insists, “You are not like them. You are a warrior. You are tenacity personified.” Such platitudes ignite my inner turmoil. With each morning’s light, a perverse ritual unfolds as workers, their own fates hanging by a thread, scour the sidewalk with high-pressure hoses. The cleansing waters chase the pain into gutters, yet the anguish, like oil, refuses to wash away. It is a young man, nearly as destitute himself, who is consigned to erase the remnants of suffering for crumbs. A homeless man breaches the café’s threshold, his very essence fragmented by afflictions unseen—his rage, a torrent unleashed on an indifferent world. I empathize with the overwrought staff while spurning the corporate leviathan that devours the dreams of its franchisees, erasing the ‘undesirables’ just beyond its gleaming windows. We are indeed failing each other—with alarming frequency. The true indictment lies not with those ensnared in hardship, but with the unyielding titan of corporate voracity, the overseer of our mass trampling. As news anchors report sobering rental averages—an impenetrable $3,000 for a mere room—my refuge becomes the impersonal embrace of a fast-food joint. Here, even as I am handed autonomy over a cup of soda, I am under the watchful gaze of wage slaves ready to sever that fragile liberty, guarding sugary streams as if they were liquid gold. A friend commiserates with the grinding toil of café proprietors. Yet, I challenge the notion, their plight a byproduct of false promises and predatory commerce. I reserve my empathy for the wretched souls huddled on street corners, condemned to the relentless scrub of the affluent and oblivious, a casualty amidst the unyielding churn of greed. … … I was put on this earth to face challenges, get through them, and never lose sight of compassion, kindness, and understanding. Let’s make the world a better place! … … Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license). 
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - Blue (Fan Created Music Video) [Netherlands]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 4, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
2ndStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,594,175
Average Steps Per Day = 22,601 Miles Per Day = 11.3 Total Miles = 3,733.31 Seawall Laps = 671.55 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 68 Resting Heart Rate = 38 Books Read = 61 Books Wrote = 14 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 271 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
The Lady
1
The first of December emerged as a serendipitous surprise, cloaked in a soft, pearlescent sky, its chill air crisp with the scent of impending winter—yet mercifully dry. I navigate the contours of Lagoon Drive with a deliberate mindfulness—as if imbuing my stride with profound contemplation could somehow elevate me beyond the mundane. As fate would whisk me forward, I confront the pedestrian crossroads: Lagoon Drive veering right, Barclay Street branching left, and straight ahead the beckoning trail to English Bay. Amid this urban tableau, our narrative threads entwine with a lady—age concealed in the enigma of time. Permit me a dalliance with cliche as I describe our encounter with her: a figure both ubiquitous and elusive, the archetypal ‘everywoman’ etched into the canvas of city life. Her steps mark a prelude, cresting the pavement’s divide a whisper before mine. She casts her lot with Barclay, veering right, and in a mirror of her choice, my feet chart a parallel course upon the same artery of asphalt. Navigating the sidewalk’s ballet, she deftly glides to its edge, yielding space in a silent choreography. As the city’s pulse beats around us at the stroke of three, she traverses the subtle gulf between us with words, unspooling the brief yarn that binds our solitary sojourn. “I’ll let you pass,” she declares, severing our ephemeral camaraderie as though shedding a layer of time-worn fabric. Yet, her narrative weaves onward, revealing threads of vulnerability. “I feel a touch more secure in your wake,” she confesses, investing the humdrum moment with an unforeseen intimacy—her reasoning a canvas stretched and ready for strokes of understanding. So, you know what I did? … … 2 December 1st brought a pleasant, crisp, and dry day despite the overcast skies. I’m deliberately walking up Lagoon Drive, believing that “mindfully” sounds smarter than “mindlessly.” At a literal fork in the sidewalk, Lagoon Drive veers right, Barclay Street branches left, and straight ahead lies a path to English Bay. I encounter a woman—whom I assume is in her fifties—writing about her seems like a moment of mediocre description. She reaches the fork about twenty steps ahead of me and turns right onto Barclay. I follow suit, also turning right and start walking up Barclay. The woman steps aside on the sidewalk, making room for me to pass. It’s 3 PM and the street is busy. She announces, “I’m going to let you pass,” as if it’s the end of our fleeting connection. Yet she adds, “I feel better walking behind you.” That comment is slightly odd but it’s where we’ll pause. “I feel safer behind you” she says. So, you know what I did? … … 3 December 1st has unfolded into an unexpectedly serene day. The air is crisp, the sky a tapestry of overcast hues, free from the grip of rain — a rare gift. I tread along Lagoon Drive with deliberate intention, choosing mindfulness — not out of genuine reflection, but as an artifice to cloak my thoughts with an illusion of depth. At the inevitable fork where the sidewalk splits, the choice is mine: right to continue on Lagoon, left onto Barclay Street, or straight ahead, a route that promises the tranquil embrace of English Bay. As fate choreographs our paths, I encounter a woman whose age appears to dance around the brink of fifty. Her presence commands little attention, drab to the passersby’s eye. She reaches the junction a mere twenty paces ahead, veering right onto Barclay. With an echo of her steps, my own decision is sealed — right for her, left for me, as I follow her tread up Barclay Street. Hugging the edge of the sidewalk, she sidesteps with a strange formality, yielding space for me to overtake her. It’s 3 PM, yet Barclay thrums with the pulse of city life. Her voice slices through the hustle, crisp and clear, “I'm going to let you pass,” a mundane parting of ways. But no, her narrative stretches on — “I feel better walking behind you.” A pause languishes in the air, loaded, before she punctuates the sentiment, “I feel safer with you in front.” In that utterance, our fleeting convergence deepens, a thread of connection woven in a fleeting, pedestrian ballet. So, you know what I did? … … I was put on this earth to face challenges, get through them, and never lose sight of compassion, kindness, and understanding. Let’s make the world a better place! … … Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - Blue (Fan Created Music Video) [Netherlands]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 4, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| |||||||||||||||||||||||||
3rdStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,624,525
Average Steps Per Day = 22,624 Miles Per Day = 11.31 Total Miles = 3,747.86 Seawall Laps = 674.17 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 69 Resting Heart Rate = 38 Record Day (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 Books Read = 61 Books Wrote = 14 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 274 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
Randy the →→→ S T R E T C H E R.
On the precipice of despair, my existence teeters. Time’s sand slips away on this insignificant speck in the cosmos. My heart frantically hammers against my ribcage, threatening rebellion with each pulse. Yet in defiance—or defeat—I’ve abandoned what could sustain me. The very medications that tether my racing heart to life go unclaimed at the pharmacy; I can’t justify the expense when eating has become a privilege I can no longer afford.
My presence has become burdensome, a parasitic weight upon my family, and a festering wound within myself. Spare me your condescension; your accusations of melodrama do nothing to alleviate the suffocating reality of my plight. Your laughter at my pain is salt in a festering wound—though why you find humour in my suffering remains a mystery that eludes my broken spirit. Dystopian truth: sustenance is now beyond reach. J’s body has surrendered over 30 pounds, withering into a ghost of its former self. I stave off the debilitating clutches of depression with exercise—a futile attempt at normalcy—yet I’m cognizant that one day, when even the gym is beyond my reach, the decay will resume, leaving me eroded, swept away like detritus by the indifferent stream of society. “You need to get a job,” they say, as if I haven’t trodden that war-torn path. Should my 15-years in HR not bear witness to my dedication? Or do they only serve to highlight my redundancy, coupled with a faltering heart that assures my roof an exit sign? The polished mask of social media veils the reality of our shared human condition. Yet, I persist—my story clawing for the light, refusing the cloak of invisibility thrust upon it by society’s hollow norms. But know this: My essence clings to relevancy with tenacious frailty. These are not the white flags of surrender; they are flares in the obsidian void, seeking acknowledgment. Perhaps you’ve heard the dismissive echo of “Get a job.” My inbox sings a dirge of rejections, the latest being a polite refusal from a copy center. I am 63, with years of experience to my name, yet to them, expendable—unworthy even of menial labor. Some premature ending has been written for me, it seems—a live-stream of my final act as my hand is forced by the capricious whims of those who lay claim to my motivation, my determination, my worth. The incessant advice of the ignorant rends through my self-esteem. Aging becomes not a badge of survival but a mark of obsolescence. I grapple with the knowledge that my intellect, my talent, dance upon the precipice of futility. … … Act 1 I find myself back here, the scene of social exchange I can scarcely afford. Guilt infiltrates my conscience, telling me my dwindling resources would be better spent on meager sustenance than on these few moments of escape from my isolation. Beside The Mayor, I find a momentary reprieve, even as a strange man’s antics in the adjacent stool, stretching and bellowing like some primal call to the wild, cut through our attempts at banal chatter. We knit humour into our discourse on society’s ills, finding levity in the absurdity of hardship. J’s substantial weight loss becomes a focal point, revealing the alarming reality that physical transformation sometimes breeds an unsettling yearning for further change, even when the scales already tip in favour of the wind. Randy (The Stretcher), the peculiar man with a penchant for Ozempic and unsolicited environmental melodies, disturbs our reflection on society’s vices, on its susceptibility to quick fixes over substance. The Stretcher—a man whose swollen knuckles tell stories of battles long past—hurls his fists skyward as though seeking to challenge the gods themselves. He barrels into our fragile exchange, attempting to tear it apart as I unravel my deepest concerns. My voice wavers, reaching The Mayor: “History loops back upon us,” I murmur, the chilling threat of the opiate crisis casting its long shadow over my thoughts. “Even now, as its echoes linger, doctors weave their siren songs, their pockets deepening as they hawk their panacea for the soul. A cure not for pain, but for the mundane—a potion for ego, a salve for vanity.” The movies, meanwhile, continue their grotesque pantomime, exploiting human frailty with a voracious appetite. As I ponder the sequels, I cannot help but imagine how eagerly they will scout for the next unwitting victims. Bodies bearing the burden of their struggles, they’ll be paraded as fodder for the masses’ insatiable thirst for transformation. My family stands desperate at crossroads, with our collective breaths held in quiet anticipation for our own miracle—one that I fear may never come. The irony of my own mortality weighs heavily on me; if fate does not intervene, I will wither away into obscurity: skeletal, unnoticed—a man remembered only for what he never became. Each shuddering breath is a reminder, a cruel countdown to the inevitable: I will die a skinny man. Randy barges into our dialogue with a chilling revelation, his voice laced with a weary cynicism. His doctor, he confides, has prescribed him Ozempic. The image that conjures up is one of a serpent, a malevolent dealer lurking in the shadows by the schoolyard, proffering the first taste without charge—a tempting whisper with a venomous bite. It’s an enticing snare, a promise of a warped love affair with the emaciated reflection staring back from the mirror’s deceitful glass. All it would take, he implies with a hollow laugh, is to step onto a treacherous path paved with gold—an addiction to a thinner self, where each subsequent dose would cost a small fortune—a ransom in thousands. The discussion spirals, leaving us in the disquieting wake of a secular sermon on desire and self-image. … … Act 2 Why am I here again, encased in this ceaseless cycle of calamity? It’s as though I’m the protagonist in a play where tragedy is the only act. Here I sit, beside Lindsay — not just any Lindsay, but Lindsay with the sharp wit and auburn hair that shimmers in the interplay of shadow and light around us. Meanwhile, Randy sprawls out in his procedural languor, seemingly oblivious to the world. Gradually, Randy stirs, propping himself on an elbow, his bleary eyes searching the room until they settle on me. His voice cuts through the quiet. “What’d you do differently today?” I do not know Randy, and there’s a taut string of reticence drawn tight at the thought of unravelling the minute details of my day to him. Despite myself, I share a fragment, “I walked 40,000 steps, crossed the threshold of a million for the month.” That seems to spark something in Randy. He launches into a passionate oration about the state of our world. “What are we going to do to save the Earth?” he implores with a gaze that tries to pierce the very core of me. I reply with the weight of a resigned sigh, “I don’t know. Most souls are treading water on this tumultuous orb, grappling with their own battles. The problem isn’t just with politicians but with everyone, this insatiable need to rally us all under one banner, as though life were so simple. We’re not pieces on a chessboard. There are no teams.” And I add with a hollow echo of frustration, “Most are overwhelmed, caught in the immediacy of their relentless lives.” “So, we're fucked,” he extrapolates with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. “No,” I counter calmly, “I didn’t say that. I merely pointed out that scaling the walls of one’s personal fortress to gaze at the world beyond is a daunting challenge for most.” “Your indifference screams DO NOTHING!” Exasperation seeps into my bones. “I’m just...tired.” “YOU ARE THE PROBLEM,” he declares with the arrogance of those who see the world in stark black and white. At that moment, the weight of every accusation seems too cumbersome to bear, and a singular thought crystallizes—I want nothing more than to retreat to the sanctuary of home. Randy’s petulance paints him as nothing less than odious in my eyes. Lindsay offers a thread of solace, her words soft and tinged with empathy, “I’m sorry you’re being treated like this.” I muster a strained smile, muttering, “It’s alright. This is a chance for me to hone my thoughts, learn a bit of patience, to truly listen.” Yet within me, truth churns; I’m cloaking my feelings in lies like bandages on a wound that refuses to heal. And in all reality, I want to tell the Stretcher to go fuck himself. … … Act 3 Friday beckons, that recurring siren call for our ritualistic symposium of souls. Yet here I am, a glutton for despair, welded to this seat of torment. Once, these Fridays unfurled as a sanctuary from life’s relentless tempests. I wove a cozy fiction to shield myself from truths too bitter to swallow. They used to be the balm; now, they’ve soured into an elixir of vitriol, an unwitting self-flagellation. Around this weekly circle, we tread on emotional landmines. I’ve become the canvas on which grievances are splattered with reckless abandon. Each barb, a poisoned dart, flung with relentless aim – they pierce me, etching a fresco of pain. Despite knowing the onslaught awaits, I return, an echo of my own confusion. Their words brand me – a mark of failure seared upon my spirit. Christmas looms, yet I remain anchored – do not presume to chart my course. Such directives are a slight, erasing J from the equation as though J never was. Last year’s Christmas wasn’t my heist. For decades, my doors welcomed the world, but now, as I lay fallen, I am buried deeper in indifference. The grey shroud of melancholy is my unwanted mantle. No longer shall I be the arena for verbal gladiators. Life’s richness is an elusive prize. My calls to the government, to the United Way, echo into the void – I am the forgotten man. My tireless hunt for work – 274 rejections strong – seems yet another report I owe to my shadow jury. J’s hand grazes my stomach, a comment on flesh surrendered. Laughter flares, a cruel flame licking my already scorched self-esteem. I voice an observation, assigning us the roles of light and dark based on my attire and a joiner at the table’s attire. His retort, a jibe – “I didn’t buy mine at Costco” – sparks hollow glee among the crowd. I calmly state, “The joke falls flat.” Yet this only fans the flames of annoyance, summoning forth a sermon I wish to unhear. Why do I recoil? For half a year I’ve retreated into silence, each Friday I share less of myself, my journey, my truth. I cower from the counterfeit counsel that veils the jabs and jibes to come. My heart aches, fear grips me with icy fingers. The road ahead for my family and me is shrouded in mist. Spare me your commands. Don’t proffer jobs at London Drugs unless you’re the gatekeeper to employment. At 63, with a heart dancing on a thin wire, I can’t even afford the rhythm to sustain it. Rather than dispensing paths I should tread, perhaps a simple “How are you?” would suffice. Must I remind you of my excruciating odyssey? A career uprooted just shy of a milestone, the piercing wounds from losing nine cherished ones – six from my own clan—a life saving surgery (on me). Each sunset, each farewell, propels me further from ever finding my way home. And fear – that constant shadow – grows. Tears escape, tracing sorrow onto these keys. What now? Do not presume to offer solutions. Instead, perhaps, dare to offer understanding. And should this narrative disquiet you, take solace in the impermanence of my words. In this darkness, no echo returns. … … I was put on this earth to face challenges, get through them, and never lose sight of compassion, kindness, and understanding. Let’s make the world a better place! … … Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - Blue (Fan Created Music Video) [Netherlands]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 4, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| |||||||||||||||||||||||||
4thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,649,914
Average Steps Per Day = 22,632 Miles Per Day = 11.31 Total Miles = 3,759.80 Seawall Laps = 676.32 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 70 Resting Heart Rate = 38 Record Day (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 Books Read = 61 Books Wrote = 14 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 275 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
Two Poems
Homelessness
Shun Homelessness The End. … … I was put on this earth to face challenges, get through them, and never lose sight of compassion, kindness, and understanding. Let’s make the world a better place! … … Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - The Day I Was Born (Fan Created Music Video) [Mexico]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 11, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
5thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,669,859
Average Steps Per Day = 22,624 Miles Per Day = 11.31 Total Miles = 3,759.80 Seawall Laps = 676.32 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 70 Resting Heart Rate = 38 Record Day (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 Books Read = 61 Books Wrote = 14 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 276 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
The Meeting
Before I succumb to this latest rollercoaster, let’s step back together ↓
. . . . . . To 2008. Work is a lifeline until my words can sustain me. That blistering Friday afternoon, a cheque lies on the dispatcher's desk: BREWERS DISTRIBUTION BRANCH. Addressed to the Picture Butte Hotel—a place lodged in a town a world away—a town seemingly diminishing to a mere memory, yet irrevocably tethered to my origin story. An unexpected coincidence—or fate’s cruel hand—why this cheque, why here? #1, the owner of my livelihood, happens also to own that distant refuge in Picture Butte. He’s never lived beyond the comforting embrace of North Vancouver, and yet... A shiver courses through me. Out of every town, every possible place on the map, it had to be Picture Butte, where denial and invisibility cradle my root—where my mother, stubborn in her willful ignorance, and my shadow of a father, conceived what would become their greatest oversight. This tale, wrapped in my voice, needs to be told—to patch the scattered, lost fragments. Edit after edit, yet still, it’s not enough. The hospital room looms ahead, a distant vision in the shadow of decades. My mother, estranged yet a blood-bound siren, calls from her bed of finality. It’s been a lifetime, yet the words remain trapped within I must return to her side, to bridge the eternal silence. I must say “hello.” I will say-- . . . . . . In the shadowed embrace of North Vancouver, a story began to unfold—a tale woven through the miles and etched into the very fabric of the place. One thousand miles stretched like a silver thread, a lifeline connecting the heart of Picture Butte to the pulsating core of Vancouver. A journey inscribed with hope, lined with the whispers of the past, and fueled by the promise of redemption. And at the heart of it all, a simple but profound promissory note—etched with the solemn words, “Pay to the Order”—a commitment that bound the fates of strangers, setting in motion a saga both intricate and vast, a symphony of lives destined to intersect. Is my life about to be discovered? . . . . . . to be continued - excerpt from Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 "The Meeting" Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - The Day I Was Born (Fan Created Music Video) [Mexico]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 11, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
6thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,690,842
Average Steps Per Day = 22,620 Miles Per Day = 11.3 Total Miles = 3,779.14 Seawall Laps = 679.80 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 72 Resting Heart Rate = 36 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 61 Books Wrote = 14 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 276 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
The Meeting
Before I succumb to this latest rollercoaster, let’s step back together ↓
. . . . . . To 2008. Work is a lifeline until my words can sustain me. That blistering Friday afternoon, a cheque lies on the dispatcher's desk: BREWERS DISTRIBUTION BRANCH. Addressed to the Picture Butte Hotel—a place lodged in a town a world away—a town seemingly diminishing to a mere memory, yet irrevocably tethered to my origin story. An unexpected coincidence—or fate’s cruel hand—why this cheque, why here? #1, the owner of my livelihood, happens also to own that distant refuge in Picture Butte. He’s never lived beyond the comforting embrace of North Vancouver, and yet... A shiver courses through me. Out of every town, every possible place on the map, it had to be Picture Butte, where denial and invisibility cradle my root—where my mother, stubborn in her willful ignorance, and my shadow of a father, conceived what would become their greatest oversight. This tale, wrapped in my voice, needs to be told—to patch the scattered, lost fragments. Edit after edit, yet still, it’s not enough. The hospital room looms ahead, a distant vision in the shadow of decades. My mother, estranged yet a blood-bound siren, calls from her bed of finality. It’s been a lifetime, yet the words remain trapped within I must return to her side, to bridge the eternal silence. I must say “hello.” I will say-- . . . . . . In the shadowed embrace of North Vancouver, a story began to unfold—a tale woven through the miles and etched into the very fabric of the place. One thousand miles stretched like a silver thread, a lifeline connecting the heart of Picture Butte to the pulsating core of Vancouver. A journey inscribed with hope, lined with the whispers of the past, and fueled by the promise of redemption. And at the heart of it all, a simple but profound promissory note—etched with the solemn words, “Pay to the Order”—a commitment that bound the fates of strangers, setting in motion a saga both intricate and vast, a symphony of lives destined to intersect. Is my life about to be discovered? . . . . . . to be continued - excerpt from Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 "The Meeting" Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - The Day I Was Born (Fan Created Music Video) [Mexico]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 11, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
7thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,712,017
Average Steps Per Day = 22,615 Miles Per Day = 11.3 Total Miles = 3,788.14 Seawall Laps = 681.30 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 73 Resting Heart Rate = 36 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 61 Books Wrote = 14 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 276 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
to be continued - excerpt from Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - The Day I Was Born (Fan Created Music Video) [Mexico]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 11, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
8thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,734,661
Average Steps Per Day = 22,615 Miles Per Day = 11.31 Total Miles = 3,799.74 Seawall Laps = 683.50 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 74 Resting Heart Rate = 36 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 62 Books Written (or is it Wrote?) = 15 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 280 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
to be continued - excerpt from Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - The Day I Was Born (Fan Created Music Video) [Mexico]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 11, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
9thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,757,108
Average Steps Per Day = 22,615 Miles Per Day = 11.29 Total Miles = 3,810.15 Seawall Laps = 685.37 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 75 Resting Heart Rate = 36 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 62 Books Written (or is it Wrote?) = 15 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 280 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
to be continued - excerpt from Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - The Day I Was Born (Fan Created Music Video) [Mexico]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 11, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
10thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,757,717
Average Steps Per Day = 22,551 Miles Per Day = 11.26 Total Miles = 3,810.15 Seawall Laps = 685.37 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 76* Resting Heart Rate = 36 *2 sick days where I literally didn't think I was going to die, but the streak continues because I subracted from my banked workouts. Banked Workouts Remaining = 53 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 62 Books Written (or is it Wrote?) = 15 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 280 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
to be continued - excerpt from Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed Manuscripts
|I Wrote|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - The Day I Was Born (Fan Created Music Video) [Mexico]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 11, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
11thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,762,330
Average Steps Per Day = 22,499 Miles Per Day = 11.24 Total Miles = 3,810.15 Seawall Laps = 685.37 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 77* Resting Heart Rate = 36 *3 sick days where I literally didn't think I was going to die, but the streak continues because I subracted from my banked workouts. Banked Workouts Remaining = 52 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 62 Books Written (or is it Wrote?) = 15 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 280 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
to be continued - excerpt from Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed + Almost Manuscripts
|I wrote or am in the process of writing|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - Page (Fan Created Music Video) [Germany]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 18, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
12thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,769,880
Average Steps Per Day = 22,456 Miles Per Day = 11.21 Total Miles = 3,810.15 Seawall Laps = 685.37 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 78* Resting Heart Rate = 36 *4 sick days where I literally didn't think I was going to die, but the streak continues because I subracted from my banked workouts. Banked Workouts Remaining = 51 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 62 Books Written (or is it Wrote?) = 15 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 280 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
to be continued - excerpt from Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 Scroll ↑↑↑ to read the whole catalogue!
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed + Almost Manuscripts
|I wrote or am in the process of writing|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - Page (Fan Created Music Video) [Germany]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 18, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| ||||||||||||||||||||||
13thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,777,075
Average Steps Per Day = 22,412 Miles Per Day = 11.19 Total Miles = 3,810.15 Seawall Laps = 685.37 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 79* Resting Heart Rate = 36 *5 sick days where I literally didn't think I was going to die, but the streak continues because I subracted from my banked workouts. Banked Workouts Remaining = 49 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 62 Books Written (or is it Wrote?) = 15 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 280 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record Lindsay Musings
This is the gut-wrenching tale of a man whose identity was stripped away with the swipe of a pandemic’s cruel hand. At 60, he watched his life’s work crumble on day one of the global lockdown.
Undeterred, this man embodies resilience; he pens fourteen novels, traces over twenty million footsteps, and digests the wisdom of three hundred books. Yet he battles the crushing realization of obsolescence creeping upon him—his age, a silent thief of relevance. Despite his relentless efforts, he feels his voice fading into a void, unheard and ignored—drowning in a nightmare where he and his family teeter perilously close to a downfall as cold and unforgiving as the asphalt that threatens to claim their fate. In a world enamoured with curating flawless façades on social media, his pleas for help are lost amid the noise. It echoes back to him as a refrain too often repeated, too easily dismissed. This man, whose pride is as impenetrable as steel, would never stoop to beg. For he knows the true cry for help doesn’t echo—it resonates, it penetrates, it demands to be heard. Yet, in the stark reality he faces, that cry seems but a whisper in the relentless storm of indifferent perfection swirling around him. What's Inside
Get your fix here - let's start a conversation.
This Colour = In Production
A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed + Almost Manuscripts
|I wrote or am in the process of writing|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - Page (Fan Created Music Video) [Germany]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 18, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
14thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,784,770
Average Steps Per Day = 22,370 Miles Per Day = 11.17 Total Miles = 3,822.93 Seawall Laps = 687.67 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 80* Resting Heart Rate = 36 *6 sick days where I literally didn't think I was going to die, but the streak continues because I subracted from my banked workouts. Banked Workouts Remaining = 47 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 62 Books Written (or is it Wrote?) = 15 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 280 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record Lindsay Musings
This is the gut-wrenching tale of a man whose identity was stripped away with the swipe of a pandemic’s cruel hand. At 60, he watched his life’s work crumble on day one of the global lockdown.
Undeterred, this man embodies resilience; he pens fourteen novels, traces over twenty million footsteps, and digests the wisdom of three hundred books. Yet he battles the crushing realization of obsolescence creeping upon him—his age, a silent thief of relevance. Despite his relentless efforts, he feels his voice fading into a void, unheard and ignored—drowning in a nightmare where he and his family teeter perilously close to a downfall as cold and unforgiving as the asphalt that threatens to claim their fate. In a world enamoured with curating flawless façades on social media, his pleas for help are lost amid the noise. It echoes back to him as a refrain too often repeated, too easily dismissed. This man, whose pride is as impenetrable as steel, would never stoop to beg. For he knows the true cry for help doesn’t echo—it resonates, it penetrates, it demands to be heard. Yet, in the stark reality he faces, that cry seems but a whisper in the relentless storm of indifferent perfection swirling around him. What's Inside
Get your fix here - let's start a conversation.
This Colour = In Production
A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed + Almost Manuscripts
|I wrote or am in the process of writing|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - Page (Fan Created Music Video) [Germany]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 18, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
15thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,791,182
Average Steps Per Day = 22,324 Miles Per Day = 11.15 Total Miles = 3,822.93 Seawall Laps = 687.67 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 81* Resting Heart Rate = 36 *6 sick days where I literally didn't think I was going to die, but the streak continues because I subracted from my banked workouts. Banked Workouts Remaining = 47 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 62 Books Written (or is it Wrote?) = 15 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 280 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record Lindsay Musings
This is the gut-wrenching tale of a man whose identity was stripped away with the swipe of a pandemic’s cruel hand. At 60, he watched his life’s work crumble on day one of the global lockdown.
Undeterred, this man embodies resilience; he pens fourteen novels, traces over twenty million footsteps, and digests the wisdom of three hundred books. Yet he battles the crushing realization of obsolescence creeping upon him—his age, a silent thief of relevance. Despite his relentless efforts, he feels his voice fading into a void, unheard and ignored—drowning in a nightmare where he and his family teeter perilously close to a downfall as cold and unforgiving as the asphalt that threatens to claim their fate. In a world enamoured with curating flawless façades on social media, his pleas for help are lost amid the noise. It echoes back to him as a refrain too often repeated, too easily dismissed. This man, whose pride is as impenetrable as steel, would never stoop to beg. For he knows the true cry for help doesn’t echo—it resonates, it penetrates, it demands to be heard. Yet, in the stark reality he faces, that cry seems but a whisper in the relentless storm of indifferent perfection swirling around him. What's Inside
Get your fix here - let's start a conversation.
This Colour = In Production
A Lindsay Musing
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
Meet the Hyenas (Currently in the Production Lab)
Up Next ↓↓↓
Contents
Humans' Bistro (on the prep table)
This Colour = In The Production Lab (Subject to creative license).
Cover Art: Lindsay Wincherauk
↑↑↑ LW original art ↑↑↑
Want More of Lindsay Today Click PDFs Above↑↑↑
Book Passages or |poems|
New Excerpt Every Monday 
Tru + Joy Find Love by Lindsay Wincherauk
$5.00 of each book sale goes to "The Falling Through the Cracks Foundation.
Battling homeless one donation at a time - judgement-free. Homeless @ 63 + This |Poems|
+ Food Insecurity + Never Give Up + Carbon Footprint + Fear Personified + Depression
My Freshest Book Thoughts
Completed + Almost Manuscripts
|I wrote or am in the process of writing|
I want to make a difference in this world!
Ed Sheeran - Page (Fan Created Music Video) [Germany]
New Song Every Monday
LW Art
Flashback Monday
Next: December 18, 2023 books ~ photos ~ food ~ comedy ~ tennis
| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
16thStatistics
2023 Totals All while battling depression and uncertainty. Steps Total = 7,816,062
Average Steps Per Day = 22,331 Miles Per Day = 11.15 Total Miles = 3,8237.53 Seawall Laps = 690.30 Consecutive Days (Fitness Asylum) = 82* Resting Heart Rate = 36 *6 sick days where I literally didn't think I was going to die, but the streak continues because I subracted from my banked workouts. Banked Workouts Remaining = 47 Record Day 2023 (November 2) Steps = 42,077 Miles ,= 21.57 All-Time Record Day 2022 (July 19) Steps = 50,572 Miles ,= 25.04 Steps Since 2020 = 19,000,000 (9,300+ Miles) Books Read = 62 Books Written (or is it Wrote?) = 15 Manuscripts Pitched = 818 Jobs Applied For = 280 Including: Fast Food, Convenience Store, Drug Stores, Bellhop, Groceries, Auto Dealership Lot Boy +++ Cineplex, A hospital porter (pushing around the recently departed), Plenty of Fish, Canada Post, Copy Boy Position +++ Red = World Record Lindsay Musings
This is the gut-wrenching tale of a man whose identity was stripped away with the swipe of a pandemic’s cruel hand. At 60, he watched his life’s work crumble on day one of the global lockdown.
Undeterred, this man embodies resilience; he pens fourteen novels, traces over twenty million footsteps, and digests the wisdom of three hundred books. Yet he battles the crushing realization of obsolescence creeping upon him—his age, a silent thief of relevance. Despite his relentless efforts, he feels his voice fading into a void, unheard and ignored—drowning in a nightmare where he and his family teeter perilously close to a downfall as cold and unforgiving as the asphalt that threatens to claim their fate. In a world enamoured with curating flawless façades on social media, his pleas for help are lost amid the noise. It echoes back to him as a refrain too often repeated, too easily dismissed. This man, whose pride is as impenetrable as steel, would never stoop to beg. For he knows the true cry for help doesn’t echo—it resonates, it penetrates, it demands to be heard. Yet, in the stark reality he faces, that cry seems but a whisper in the relentless storm of indifferent perfection swirling around him. What's Inside
Get your fix here - let's start a conversation.
This Colour = In Production
| ||||||||||
