lindsaywin
Lindsay Wincherauk Creates Things
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—Sharing the harsh realities of being 63.5 years old (762 weeks) and having to reinvent yourself or become homeless when society isn't really interested in you reinventing yourself, so you might be up the creek without a paddle - and nobody knows how to be around you—
Completed today: (Novella) The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk - The Travails of an Unwanted Son -
You may read it here (scroll down the page):
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An Excerpt from "The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk -The Travails of An Unwanted Son-
The Crying Heart
Read more @
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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An Excerpt from "The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk -The Travails of An Unwanted Son-
A Bared Soul: Parts 1 + 2
Sharing something creative daily to make the world a little kinder!
Read more @
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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An Excerpt from "The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk -The Travails of An Unwanted Son-
2 Poems about Homelessness
Bread + Heroin
A Bared Soul
Read more @
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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An Excerpt from "The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk -The Travails of An Unwanted Son-
The Fear of Homelessness
The thought of losing everything, the fear of homelessness, it’s a monster that breathes whispers of giving up into my ear. But it’s the people who truly listen – those remarkable few who believe in action over empty platitudes – they give me strength. They transform the desperate energy into hope, not for the vacuous sound of it, but the tangible presence in my life.
Read more @
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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An Excerpt from "The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk -The Travails of An Unwanted Son-
FORTRESS OF DOUBT
Acknowledging the truth within myself, this is the crux—for those of us scarred by relentless hardships, we are embroiled in a silent war with our own worth, battling the insidious belief we are undeserving of love and support. We recoil at the thought of being a burden, haunted by echoes of a past that ingrained in us the cruel lesson of our supposed insignificance.
Pause and let that sink in.
A life battered by trials is a fortress of doubt, its walls steeped with the perpetual dread of abandonment, every shadow a menace of solitude.
Read more @
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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An Excerpt from "The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk -The Travails of An Unwanted Son-
Perhaps the most insidious aspect of privilege—the very curse it carries—is the seductive and erroneous conviction that one’s initial leap forward was ever a warranted testament to personal merit.
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www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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An Excerpt from "The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk -The Travails of An Unwanted Son-
Our society resembles an iceberg; stable in appearance above water but disintegrating beneath. This isn’t an abrupt catastrophe but a slow erosion. Unless we change the way, we speak and act towards one another, the concept of ‘normal life’ that we take for granted globally is on the brink of disappearing right before our eyes.
Read more @
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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The Next Book: I'm Writing
The Travails of an Unwanted Son: The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk - Volume 2
Chapters so far:
Michael
Sex Club
Smart Enough
Pain
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
Working covers.
Which one do you like the best?
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An Excerpt from "The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk -The Travails of An Unwanted Son-
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!
Read more @
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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An Excerpt from "The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk -The Travails of An Unwanted Son-
The crying heart does not seek an echo; it seeks solace, aid—a hand to hold.
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Merry Christmas,
As Christmas lights twinkled in the frosty twilight, I sat down at my aged oaken desk, a relic as weary as my spirit, and penned a note that carried more weight than the usual holiday cheer.
This year, instead of a tangible gift wrapped in glimmering paper and ribbon, I’d like to extend a piece of my soul bound in words.
My latest endeavour—
I call it “The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk ~the travails of an unwanted son~.”
It’s waiting for you, wrapped in digital format, a click away on the shelves of my virtual haven (scroll to The Freshest Release - Click Lindsay Musings: Volume 1 - Read)
Forged over fourteen relentless days (yes, I wrote it in fourteen days while battling depression) in December. Each word was a battle against the grey fog of depression and the storm of uncertainty raging in my mind. The persistent clacking of my keyboard became my refrain against surrender, my stand against the encroaching dark.
Despite their best intentions, some of my friends serve as unwitting heralds of doubt. Their words echo in my mind—: “Focus, Lindsay,” “Stop dwelling”—a chorus I’ve grown to fear.
One, in particular, has become a wayward angel, proclaiming to anyone who would listen that it’s high time I “get off my lazy butt and get a job.” A bitter laugh escapes me every time; they don’t see the mountain of 280+ job applications, a testament to my tenacity—or perhaps my desperation.
After all, at 63, the job market doesn’t exactly throw open its doors.
Fear—a constant companion, its icy fingers wrapping around my heart.
The future, once a bright path, is now shrouded in mists of uncertainty. My family’s fate, entwined with mine, only compounds the dread.
I’m not looking for platitudes or cheer, no. When the night is long and deep, those well-meant sentiments often twist into daggers.
So, here I am, reaching out into the void, offering not only my book but every fibre of well-wishing my weary heart can muster.
If my story resonates with you, I implore you—share it, let it ripple out into the world.
If you prefer, I will send you the PDF of my heart’s latest labour.
Send me your email with “Book Please” crowning the subject line. And I’ll ignite the digital forge and cast a copy in your direction.
With love,
L.W.
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Two Poems
Homelessness
Shun
......
Homelessness
The End.
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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I just received an email saying:
Hello Lindsay,
Thank you for expressing interest in Ricoh USA and applying to the 23-03650 - Copy Centre Clerk position. While you have an impressive background, we have decided to move forward with other candidates who more closely fit our current business needs at this time. Therefore, you will not be considered further for this particular opportunity.
To those of you who judge me, well, you can . . .
I'm 63, and I don't even qualify to work a photocopier.
On December 25th, I will be live-streaming my death.
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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2023 Stats (as of yesterday)
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 = 273
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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I changed one of my Book Covers and I, slightly tweaked the title.
Tell me how much you love the new cover?
Go on, tell me... I will wait over here!
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Thinking of the Children (Sure) – A Scholastic Ruse: Brought to us by the NIMBY people.
In the undercurrents of contemporary society, the dark truth lies veiled: schools, once bastions of learning, have been hijacked by the wealthy. Disguised under the noble cause of nurturing young minds, they have become pawns in a chess game to bolster property values.
We, my family, and I, stand on the other side of this shadow line – cast as villains in a tale spun by the privileged, who drape their greed in the cloak of children’s welfare. Misguided fears are cultivated in the young, painting those amongst us who fall through society’s cracks as monsters to be feared, all while masking the real horror – a callous sacrifice of human life at the altar of real estate profits.
In the gilded heart of modern society, the haloed sanctuaries of learning - schools - are meticulously sculpted into silent shields by the affluent, their veneer of child welfare disguising a fierce crusade for property price fortification. Within this cunning masquerade, my family's benevolent spirit, an innocent bird in the snare, risibly looms like a spectre in the fevered imaginations of those who bow to the almighty dollar. Such fearmongers skillfully daub us as the malevolent phantoms of urban legend, an image as far from reality as the moon from the earth, while we, innocent yet accused, teeter on the crumbled edges where society's glitter fades to neglect.
Contemporary society often manipulates educational institutions to bolster property values in affluent neighbourhoods, disguising this exploitation under the guise of children's welfare. Despite my family's benign intentions, we are vulnerable to vilification by those who prioritize their real estate investments over human dignity, a threat that looms larger as we persistently slip through the fissures of society's framework.
One of the pressing issues in modern society is the pervasive use of schools as tools by the affluent to safeguard their property values, all while purportedly focusing on children's welfare.
My family and I are good people, children have no need to fear us, but if one were to listen to those desperately protecting their property values at the cost of human life, children would be taught we are devils to fear.
www.lindsaywincherauk.com
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