Memories: 3 February 2025

3 February 2025

6:38 am Yippy Yo Yo! Here we go! Another Day in Paradise!

Waiting for the 180 bus. I had a lovely lunch and catch up with Margaret. I will see her on Friday afternoon and evening again. Lovely. Childhood friends where you just pick up as though you haven’t spent even a day apart are the purest Magick of all!

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“I’m the last one standing….Sacred Space…what are you gonna do???? Kill me?!”

3 February 2023

9:30 am I just drifted back into full consciousness from the Astral. As I was ascending from the depths of dreamland, like a mist re-entering my body. I saw the numbers “12.12.25”.

What? I thought! What happens on 12.12.25? It might be someone’s birthday? Or death day. Or do they mean 2025 so some event yet to occur? A birth. A new love entering my life? A marriage? A death?

The date or time in the time-space continuum stayed with me until I fully synapsed…Important. Don’t forget.

In the meantime I have living to do. Much to enjoy. Much to achieve. Much to retrieve. Much to stand up against. Much to fight.

Love and light. But also the sanguine fierce defiance in the face of my own mortality and global atrocities.

Be kind to me Oh Holy One. You sent me back a dozen times and you made me promises that even I do not know were not delusions or deceptions. But I held up my end of the bargain.

I worked at my jewellery with the meagre resources You sent me and with my flailing failing health. I proved my mettle and my honourable intentions. I co-created. I danced to my own oblivion. I loved.

I rained down curses on my enemies and I also blessed according to my will and sometimes Thine. I obeyed my intuitions which saved me up to a point. I asked for a gentle peaceful death and You tore that away from me on my last languid breath and hurled me back into the fray!

For what purpose , Oh G-d? Only to bear witness to the alien invasion and the insanity of these times that betrayed their own mortal bodies in the false hope of “health”.

And me…your perpetually dying Little One has outlived her own expectations and railed against you… G-d …who allowed humanity to divest itself of soul, for its love of money, power and absurdist cyborg aspirations.

We are animals. Animals with soul. Heart and sinew. But we seek eternity as machines. As traitors to all that is Holy. As some other lifeform not fit for this organic beautiful planet. Not designed by a higher power, a creator to live in flesh suits and advance our souls via eons of evolution only to sell ourselves out to mediocrity, homogenisation and eugenics. To sell our own babies out to something evil and inhuman and other-human.

DMT creatures showed us their presence in a parallel dimension. Angels wring their hands over us…the thick necked stubborn and too often easily led blinded people. Like herd animals they harvest us. And after the way we stood silent to the suffering of other life forms on this planet perhaps we deserve to be harvested like livestock?

But I will fight for my small corner of existence. My hobbit feet trailing spiritual gold wherever they touch the earth, knowing that there is a great Love in this world that Sees us. Those with Love and courage and determination to be present and to bear witness and to adjudicate for those yet to awaken, to be born…to Live!

Earthangels Arise and Shine in the glory of the Lord. Look neither left nor right but see with ancient eyes into a distant future and know…we have earned our right to exist long before this Covidian monstrosity and we will be here long after. Even as spirits, guiding the lost and the damned…Home.

But…I am so tired…so very tired. I can’t do this life alone much longer. I need the extra resources and the Love to continue my Walk, and light bearers to carry my dross and hold me precious.

There were several who have done just that and protected me and kept me alive and sustained me. You know who you are. I am grateful.

The dance goes on, but it is reaching a frenzied pitch. A hobbit toss. A proclamation before all Souls in earth. Hold the line. Hold each other. Hold.

I am always holding my heart, my broken but Kintsugied by spiritual gold, heart out to the multiverses. I am always in a holding pattern. Pressed against an invisible invincible glass ceiling, craning my neck like Alice in wonderland who grew too big for her boots.

Ego and vanity. Or as my daughter, infested by the you know what so she lashes out occasionally, called me Bougie (bourgeois).

Well it’s hard to be entitled or bourgeois while barely existing in dire poverty, darlings. Just saying. If I were truly bourgeois do you think I would be living like this?

I took no vows of poverty although I did reclaim my chastity after decades of vicious callow lacklustre men used and abused me to the point of suicide.

That celibate lifestyle also was a protective device. I have grown more powerful in my core. But I did revoke all vows of poverty and chastity a few years ago. And slowly…painfully…I began to blossom in my creativity and even aspire to owning my own business again and yes…allow a true devoted loyal lover into my body again. In time. Eons. By the grace of the gods, as I cannot endure one more monster ever again.

So the holding pattern remains. What we have…we hold! There is great wisdom in waiting out the storms of life and outliving the false feckless ones. 🙂

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10:45 am it’s hotter than Hell and I know because I’ve been there. 🙂 Time to shower and wash off the sweat and greet the day. Have a great day, People.

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3 February 2021

11:11am thank you Angels. I am sitting outside in the garden with Charley and Beauregard. The wind has picked up and there has been a light shower but I am eating strawberries, drinking tea and slowly rising back into my ideal state of consciousness. (Only woke up about half an hour ago).

It’s another cloudy but humid sort of day. Lots more rain on the way methinks.

I have an urge go out (been isolated here for several weeks). But the weather is inclement and I am worried about Money so it behooves me to stay home and get busy with finishing my decoupage and painting projects. (I have not done any more work on them since I broke down!)

It’s a shame as I was doing so well and made such progress then bam! splat! Back to shut-down mode again. But I had put all my psychic energy into worrying about getting the lawns mowed, and feeling shot to pieces over recent abusive practises in my favourite music venue that I have had no mental space for anything else.

A feature of cptsd: either riding high like a champion or splonging in the darkness until the next uprising!

I do wish my brain had been configured properly in a healthy decent childhood environment! But I must make the most of my innate quirkiness and partake in all the Goodness that this earth (our Mother!) still holds for me. Even wonders and magick I have not yet experienced. Or was denied me for too long. Hmmm. What could that be?!

My spirit soars and flies to all the sacred places I was never able to travel to in physical reality. Machu Picchu, Teotihuacan, New Grange, Jerusalem, the Gaza pyramids, Petra...Uluru...

But Makom...Makom. “G-d was in this place and I did not know it”. Standing straight and as tall as I can muster in my beaten down life with my short hobbit body...holding my ground with my big feet on my property that belongs to the government but has been my home for 17 and a half years. Gateways to holiness can be found anywhere. I need only open my eyes and enter the portals of peace.

I must be grateful for what is and let go of wishes and desires that tease and taunt me and cause me distress: dreams of prosperity, travel across the globe and my ever tantalising fantasy of a love partner.

I am the man,woman, child, Warrior goddess and wild wolf guide I need. I pull all aspects of my psyche and personality together and tap on the golden scar tissue of my kintsugied heart and let secret chambers locked away to protect or defend Us open only when my mind is clear and my spirit is ready.

Too much of a good thing spiritually is “crazy making”. She says, with her bare feet planted on the earth, grounding into this reality as stoically as ever.

The bird and the dog having a scrap over the ball between my feet. Brats. But grounding ...yes...grounding.

My body might be a prisoner of poverty and trauma but my mind and heart are free to travel anywhere we like in a millisecond.

Freedom to the Tanya: worth more than diamonds, gold, rubies or even her much desired love. Freedom to be and feel and see and to Become....Beautiful, holy and blessed. In love with life and its mysteries. In love with my own self who has journeyed so far yet gone nowhere. A paradox!

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11:11pm it’s been a productive day. Thank you Angels. I can hardly walk I am so tired. But I got done what needed to be done. (Including a massive fight with Beauregard, clipping his nails.) He managed to bite me even with his muzzle on, on my left thumb. A rather nasty puncture.

I also managed to slice my right thumb open on some foil on the edge of a dip packaging. Like a paper cut only worse. I bled like a stuck pig. So today has been a thumbs up kinda day.

The backs of my hands are swollen with fluid under the skin again. Probably from the effort of scrubbing all the copper pots. Grrr. Old age is not for sissies.

I also had to clean out my pantry and wash everything down and put peppermint oil in the little cabinets. That was a big job I got involved in while simultaneously baking shortbread.

3 February 2020

I woke up this morning with a weird sort of analogy in my mind. It came to me yesterday briefly but I shoved it off…9but it is back. I feel like a coat hanger. My head is a sharp hook seeking attachment to someone so I can just be slid along the closet unwanted and largely forgotten until the day he decides to try me on.

Like Germaine Greer’s snotty witty little comment in Absolutely Fabulous “my entire body hangs off these cheekbones” delivered with a sneer. Germaine and I have that in common. Cheek (Chutzpah)...Bones.

My entire frame feels like it just hangs off my shoulders like a fucking coat hanger. I am only alive from the shoulders up. Weird sort of idea n’est-ce pas?

I suppose I need to get back into dancing to reintegrate my entire body and gift it with passion and revivification and “fly” again. As soon as I can catch my breath and get out of my head.

Let’s face it. I should probably go and find some willing creature of the male gender and have sex again. But I am not willing to sacrifice my carefully reconstructed heart and body on the coals of empty superficial sweaty lying fuckery again. Gross!

I have been missing a certain someone and even I don’t understand why?! Why? Désirée...whyyyyy?! Am I picking up on his vibes or is it just me feeling like I am dying (for the trillionth time...yawn...so boring...this dying is endless and I rather enjoy eking every ounce of life force out of my own Self!)

So today, with the benevolent love of the gods and goddesses, what shall The Tanya (draping off the mainframe of life like a post-modern latent fashion discard...I am Woman hear me Roar...mewling from my myopic closet of dystopic disregard...) achieve?

I might put on music and dance until my lungs burst. Or drag my little découpage case back out and pretend to be an artist again. Or just keep breathing until this little foray into weirdness passes.

Maybe have a coffee at Amanda’s? Or maybe stay home? Choices. Limitless choices.

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Been practising ukulele which I have not done in over a year! I bought it with my inheritance (7 1/2 years ago) and still have not bothered to attempt mastery.

So I had “No aphrodisiac” in my head again so decided to play it on my Uke. Soothes the annoying pesky spirit that wants that song so damn much and gets me to practise music at the same time. I am all fingers and thumbs. My strumming is woeful. I can’t sing. But it was fun trying anyway.

Maybe that is all I am good at...trying. But if you persist in trying....sometimes you just get it in the end. Unless it’s your love life …persistence in bathos love-sickness just makes you look seedy and desperate and a stalker. Shitful.

So ukulele can distract me from all that is not fitting well in my coat hanger life ...waiting for Godot...and maybe one day I will be seen as the most glorious talented garnicht garment and paraded out with pride and joy and elation. By someone who values my few intrinsic gifts. Ahem.

The more those dumb nasty motherfuckers pushed me down, the more I got up again like a gopher in a mad hatters teapot. Unexpected. They thought I would just crawl away to die somewhere. But alas no. The Mama T, that fantabulous Bitch is Back!

What can we do? But enjoy the Becoming after the long estrangement and becalmment. Who knew? I had another uprising in me! Formidable! Je t’aime! (I love you!)

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I am really happy because my gorgeous daughter just came to visit me this evening. It was so lovely to see her!

Also there is a thunder storm passing over so we are going to get much desired rain. Crystal says rain is forecast until the 12th Feb. So yeah, that means lots of humidity but the grass will grow wildly and the garden will flourish.

I have two dragonfruit flowers growing madly at the moment. So perhaps this year the plant will allow itself to set fruit. (I will have to cross pollinate with a paint brush!). So everything is doing it’s wild natural thing in my Sacred Space garden with a little bit of help from me and the bees of course.

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I love this!!!

3 February 2019

I had a lovely day with my niece and nephew. Mark made a lovely antipasto for our lunch, complete with a delicious Camembert drizzled with honey, and yummy olives.

Then we had a walk at Wynnum Beach. Then Ruby made a beautiful curry (I had two massive wharfie type servings!!!) and we had a lovely fruit salad with ice cream for dessert!

Oh wow. Most of all we had a lovely time chatting and Ayesha and Isaac were a delight as usual. Beauregard thoroughly enjoyed his time with the children and got lots of belly rubs with Ayesha and loved his bones from the curry also.

Thanks for a lovely day! Xxx

3 February 2018

3 February 2016

I just had my debrief with my Dr. He stated that my diagnosis is Complex PTSD+++ and he said if any other health professional dares to suggest I have a personality disorder they can come and argue with him!

He also told me that he knows I am definitely not a Lesbian. Weak inadequate men think that because I have several masculine qualities inherited from my trauma: strength, power, safety, protection also the ability to identify with the underdog.

My refusal to pander to men and my rejection of any abuse. In other global societies I would be recognised as powerful and respected for my womanly qualities : Bringing forth life.

I stated I do not feel very powerful living in poverty in housing commission. He said, but you have other qualities that are powerful indeed.

He referred to my love 'relationship' as Intimacy by Avoidance and one of the most unusual weirdest he has ever seen. Lol! That is so very true!

He thinks he is terrified of my power, that I might subsume him. (I agree!). That I might chew him up and spit him out. I stated all my relationships have involved men either actively trying to kill me or running away. I laughed.

Beauregard reached up and gave me a hug. We were amazed! My Dr said it was because we were talking so intently and have such a strong rapport. The dog wanted my full attention. Dogs are after all, Narcissists as part of their survival mechanism.

3 February 2015

2 am triggered, traumatized, distressed.

I will survive, but it gets harder each time to fight off the filth that is thrown my way.

I can only pray for a happier life, safe from malignant traitors and lying dogs.

I have a Dream! Lmao!

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The beautiful Sally sent me a care package, along with the cat food for Socks and Sophie. Such lovely treats! I am blessed to have some truly caring people in my life. Thank you, Sally!

Sally Castle: Aw shucks you're welcome Tanya 😊

Me: You really spoiled me and it was a lovely surprise after some very distressing events on the weekend.

Karen bought an enormous bucket of KFC when she came to sleep over Friday night.

Then Crystal arrived last night with a huge amount of KFC. 2 Zinger burgers and 2 wraps. Chips.

So while emotionally I have been decimated, my beautiful friends and daughter have spoilt me lavishly. I am very blessed!

Thanks also to Lyn, Jarrod and Gail for their steadfast love and support.

There is a saying "It takes a Village to raise a child". As a survivor of Trauma it has taken very strong, determined, loyal and loving friends to "raise" me, as I was raised by Village idiots and attacked most of my life by vindictive drooling curs.

I do know how much hard work has gone into keeping me going and buoying me up in dark times and I thank you all for the great love you have shown for me. Not once, but many many times. G-d Bless all your Hearts and Souls xxx

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This evening I showed Gail the Heart Rock that Crystal gave me yesterday. I can truly see all the little sparkles! Amazing!

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I just found out our new leader is not Polish Jewish.

Be still my heart. But I am sure she will still be Awesome!

Update 2023: well I was very wrong about that monstrosity of WEF hell. A genocidal murderer she is. They all are! How ironic I wrote “be still my heart!” Since her active peddling of that poison has caused myocarditis and pericarditis and killed thousands. Evil cow!

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3 February 2014

The Black Moon on Friday brought extraordinary experiences, some of them traumatic, (like finding out my father is still alive and not far enough away but that is ok as long as I don't 'engage'), a wild weekend dancing joyously with my friends, new friendships forged and old friendships falling away like worn out snakeskins and discombobulation of my mind as I try to process this all, while being busily enjoying my life, celebrating, processing and reconstructing.

I had my hair done this afternoon, so feel pretty and refreshed. Yayyy! Then going to Jackpot Noodles with my gorgeous daughter and my best man friend Jarrod. Yayy! Can't wait, hungry mama here. :)

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Rudyard Kipling ....that is all I am going to say about that. And Valium. :)

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3 February 2013

I danced all weekend but my mood degenerated last night as I must have been over-tired on my 8 inch boots. So I came home early and talked on Paltalk with my mates until 3am :-).

Today I got up late arvo and spend arvo and evening with my darling Lyn. Nice day!

3 February 2011

It was a steamy hot day so I schvitzed but managed to potter a bit in the garden. Repotted some plant pots and hosed the garden. Everything looks nice.

Off to Murder House tomorrow, wish me luck and perfectly fixed teeth!

3 February 2010

Ze Russians are coming....hide the Vodka, ze Rabbi is coming...pretend you're kosher and...hide the Vodka!

Update 3 Feb 2023: I met a very nice Slavic looking man this evening. I looked at him and said “You are a Slav” he looked amazed and said “my father was Ukrainian!” I nodded. Told him I have Polish ancestry and I recognise those beautiful broad cheekbones and that flat Slavic head anywhere! He laughed. I laughed.

His friend was very nice too. I told him he looked Scottish and Irish. He said “Correct!” I said “yeah my father’s line were Scottish, Irish, English too.”

The two men danced with Jo and I and we enjoyed each other’s company.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons