 When my father died in 1988 and then my brother in 1996, they left deep holes within me that I tried to fill, but the only thing that seemed to fill those gaping holes was alcohol. Although my grip on alcohol really started in my teens from having to wash away the abuse that happened to me when I was 10, and 15. So, the drinking really started in my teens but became heavier after the death of my father and then my brother. For the longest time, from the age of 10, I never really felt like I fit in anywhere. The soul within me seemed older. After years of alcohol abuse and a failed marriage, depression set in and I hit rock bottom. I was homeless for a bit but then managed to find a place to live where I began to question myself, feeling like I had let my family and the few friends I had, down. I tried to hide myself away but that left me with dark thoughts and a conscience where my father and brother stared back at me in silence. After the marriage failed in 2002, I then went through a major depression to the point that I could not function at all. I saw a doctor, who insisted I take time off work. He prescribed medication as well which meant that I had to stop drinking alcohol for a while to take the pills…and so I did. And here I have to tell you that after a while without drinking, I felt, and then saw the demon within me, shrivel up and die. (No joke) I met someone over the internet in 2002-2003 that had a calming effect on me. A new relationship began to bud in my life and I felt like I had both feet on the ground again. It wasn’t long before I began to casually drink, but this time I was able to see myself as I was and decided to stop. I finally gave it up in 2005, the day before my 45th birthday. My deceased brother Danny also had an influence on my decision as he had died of a massive heart attack at the age of 44 and I felt myself going in the same direction, and so on March 22nd, 2005, as a promise to my brother Danny, and to myself, I gave up smoking and drinking. Giving up drinking was easy because I drank very rarely at that point in time, however, giving up smoking? That was really hard. Anyone that has quit smoking will tell you about the strong pull like being attached to chains and routines, or the bargaining from that nicotine demon, the anger brought on by the nicotine withdrawal and the stress it puts on family and friends because of the sudden mood swings. It was like being a wounded bear in the woods, snarling on two feet and swatting at the air…this too did pass and because I lived in the country and had a forest to snarl in, I was able to beat the addiction. Being alone in a natural place allowed me to battle the demons within while steering clear from the cliff of self destruction. People know how stubborn I can be. My brother certainly saw it when I was a teenager, and had no problem telling me about how frustrating I could be. I’m pretty sure others have seen it since, although, today, it is from a position of knowledge and not a position of belief. I certainly can appear very stubborn in my ways, and I’m not afraid to speak my mind. Anyways, there is a song I found during my World United Music project, that really resonated with what it felt like as I went through and emerged from this darkness. The song is called “Never Again” by Griffin House, from his 2007 album “Homecoming”. Have you ever had a song that felt like it was written especially for you? This one did it for me. The lyrics are below but unfortunately this websites will not allow me to embed the song. However, if you click on this link Griffin House - Never Again it will take you to the song on YouTube. So, if you’ve made it this far in reading my post, have a listen to the song and read the lyrics to understand why it resonated so well. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Wishing you a healthy, prosperous and happy New Year! ~ Stewart ~ ------------------------------------------- Never Again – Griffin House Never again am I gonna give my heart to a bullshit cause I've had enough of lies and dark Never again am I gonna waste my time on a bullshit road It's never been a friend of mine Simple words from a simple man Take me as I am 'cause there's no guarantee I'll ever change To feel like this, to know distress, to always wonder why Ah, forgive me any way I go Father, I know, I feel like I'm made to let you down Brother, I know, I'm failing to come through To feel like this, to know distress, to always wonder why If you lead me anywhere I'll go Well, it's plain to see that I don't fit in And I tried to find a place to hide My body's always been too young for the soul that's trapped inside But I'd show the color of my eyes to everyone around And it'd take an angel seven years to come and calm me down I'll never understand myself or know the reasons why In my bed alone at night I learned to be afraid to die My soul is frozen stiff inside my skin Paralyzed by thoughts that I've let in Father, I know, I feel like I'm made to let you down Brother, I know, I'm failing to come through To feel like this, to know distress, to always wonder why If you take me... anywhere I'll go Wherever you are going... take me by the hand If you lead me... anywhere I'll go 
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 Recently, I happened upon a 1978 letter I received from my deceased brother, Danny (1951-1996), from when he was living in Labrador City, Newfoundland. It was a reply to a letter I had sent him before my 18th birthday on what I was up to with my silly teenage burdens and the political situation in Quebec. My letter also contained a few of my rhyming poems of that time. In my brother’s return letter, he gave me advice and encouraged me to pursue my passions, of whatever it was I enjoyed, be it as a DJ, a writer or whatever my passion was. He said, “Look for something which you will enjoy doing for the rest of your life, and you will be successful.” Great advice from an older brother, at a time when everything seemed possible.  However, in today’s day and age, it’s easy to say, but hard to do in a world controlled by gatekeepers that won’t allow exposure to those of us who speak out on the crimes committed by the ruling class. I guess you know by now that I chose to write. lol
My brother also made the space in his letter to give me a little constructive criticism, saying that, “You’re hard to get along with because you don’t listen.” 😉 Well, that was and is true to a point, even now, I guess. However, there are some things I just can’t listen to, such as bullshit. LMAO What captured my attention the most in his letter however, was something he said about my writing, “You write very good letters and very good phrases or Poems, or what-ever-you-call-them?” I started laughing (in the present) because I could never put my finger on what it was that I was writing. I used to think of them as poems but that label never really fit my political expressions and rebellion and I never really followed the rules in poetry to be called a poet. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever been a good rule follower in Quebec society, especially if it forced me to do something like learn French or submit to inoculations against my will, but mostly because my rebellious self prefers equality, justice, honesty and peace of mind. 😊 But a “what-ever-you-call-them” seems like the perfect description for my activist rhyming stanza’s, couplets and poems. So, I’d like to share a ‘what-ever-you-call-it’ with you today, that speaks of the current dystopia via our national division, coldness to each other and disunity that seems to be forever under a cloud of illusions. A ‘what-ever-you-call-it’ is a political expression or rebellion of how things really are or how I feel about those in control. They are usually in stanza form with an explanation below them where I get to shine light in dark places. (See the Activist Poet books) The one I share with you today is more of a rhyming prose, what-ever-you-call-it. So, here it is, my what-ever-you-call-it, post for today. -------------------------------------------------------------- I’m lucky. Lucky to be alive in twenty-five after my health took a sudden dive. I feel, like a new man made of steel, the wounds did heal, and I’m back with my old zeal. But I still feel the pains and strains from oncoming trains, and the drains that left our communities sprained in divisions of the brain. I mean, two point five billion for Ukraine? When our economy’s under strain?! That’s insane! Has the mystery of history taught us nothing? Oh yes, the good ole days…those days when we were raised, phased and praised, are gone. Days when the only thing that seemed to matter was keeping up with the chatter and fitting in with the others. Keep your nose to the grind, stay confined and never mind the man behind the curtain. ‘I remember when’ unfolds today with its brilliant light. A time when we knew wrong from right; the height of delight, when most were polite…and upright. We thought we would live forever under that bubble of seclusions or were they just delusions in a pool of illusions? However that may be, the days we see today are filled with dark shadows, where division of the nation by rules made by fools, and tools of the ruling ghouls, that champion those cesspools of narratives; are now doubling down. And reality is worse; we’ve been divided since birth, for what is our worth all over the earth if they take our fire and hearth and enslave us to poverty by the barrel of a gun? It seems the criminals are in charge, by and large, with no way to discharge their parge on our homes. Scavengers, every one; candidates that grow like mold and then unfold like cancer of the brain that takes over the veins and arteries of our nation. A festering scourge that we cannot purge for it employs our delusion within the illusion of their so-called way of life. And as that poison runs its course, to catch us all; where one by one we fall into their squall, as they build their wall and gate our disunity, the majority remain deaf, dumb and blind. I plea with thee to see, for we might agree on community, and how that looks with a guarantee for our family tree. If we stand together, put community first, all the pain would be reversed. We’d no longer be cursed or disbursed but in unison on common ground. Let us begin the new year without fear; to persevere and engineer a new path and frontier. That we might turn the page on this disastrous age and engage together, to navigate the weather and build that beautiful dream, that supreme theme, called Canada. Thanks for reading my, ‘what-ever-you-call-it’.  November 19th, 2025
As I sit here writing my second novel (half way through), I find myself looking back at the crazy year I just had. The year started with a question mark around my ability to work five days a week. I had taken a job way below my skill set two years ago, driving a forklift for an American Multi-national company to support my family. I became their hardest working and most reliable employee in Montreal. In March 2025, I would turn 65 (Retirement age) and had decided that if I was to continue working, it should only be for a maximum of four days a week because I no longer had the energy to work a five-day week…and I wanted more time to write. I put in a request for a four-day week, but unfortunately, the company refused (three times), leaving me with an important decision. Should I continue working for them or should I look elsewhere? However, to make matters worse, after my request, they enforced a rigid rule that would compromise my personal safety as a forklift driver and the safety of others in the warehouse because of it. I tried it their way, under duress, but couldn’t continue working under dangerous circumstances. In essence, they left me no choice and so I gave them a two week notice and retired. My last day of work for this American multi-national was June 9th, 2025. Good f*cken riddance! 😉 Meanwhile as all this was going on, I wrote and released my 5th book (The Activist Poet Volume IV) released on May 25th, 2025. But just as I was trying to market the book, the four books in this series, including the new one, were removed from the Amazon website June 6th, 2025 at a very critical marketing phase. I fought hard to get my books back online and finally succeeded around July 12th. I started a new part time job on July 13th, and so with my books back up online and a new job, it looked like things were finally going my way. That is until July 18th, when I had a massive heart attack. The stress I was under this year was enormous and while under stress we tend to go off our diets, which is what happened to me…although heart disease doesn’t happen over night. However, my diet choices from February to July certainly didn’t make things better. The bright spot was that I had kept up with my workout routine two to three days a week, which made my body strong. I’m now well into my 15th week of recovery after having open heart surgery with a quadruple bypass on August 1st, 2025. The doctors had to rebuild my heart with pieces of me; large vein from my left leg, one artery from my left arm and three other arteries taken from around my heart. The initial shock of having a heart attack didn’t really register at first, not until I received the results of my angiogram. Before the angiogram, it was mentioned I would probably need a stent in one of the arteries and that, if so, it would be done right there and then during the angiogram. However, when they brought the bad news to me in the recovery area, that six arteries were blocked and that I would need a quadruple bypass operation, I went numb… Yet, even still, there were many depressing avenues I could have gone down, but I didn’t. And here I have to say that the reason was that I had a premonition, years and months earlier, that I was going to survive this moment. I saw beyond it, and it was this: me as a silhouette in a black and white scene being wheeled out of the hospital by my son…(and that did indeed, happen.) Intuition and vision have played an important part in my life, but it was only when I began to listen that it made any sense. I went into the operation knowing I would come out of it, and I knew I would do so with a focused determination to heal in a short period of time….and guess what? I have! 😉 Positive attitude is everything. Now in hindsight, I see that the operation I underwent was an ending of a cycle on my journey and the beginning of a new one. Going forward, it will be my last task, and one that my whole life has prepared me for…I will continue writing. I have more time for it now. I don’t know if I will be successful or not, but the premonition says, I will be successful, later down the road. There is one thing about me that is very true, and it is this; when I set my mind to doing something, I not only do it, but I do it with a determination to win. I may fail at first, but failure is but a step in a learning phase and I never quit when I have my eye on the ball. I have been a champion in whatever I put my mind to my whole life. Novel writing will not be any different. I’m half way through writing my second novel which continues the intriguing mystery thriller from the first novel, “The Shard of Asclepius”. If you haven’t read the first one, you are missing out on a great story. Christmas is around the corner, so why not support a Canadian, shadow banned, independent author? I’ll be spending more time here on my author’s website in the coming months to keep you up to date with the new book but also to share positive energy in a world gone completely mad…and if you want to talk about the madness, I can do that to…Talk soon! 😊 Stewart |
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