Memories: 1 September 2025

1 September 2025

5:36 am awake. Still not breathing so great in my sleep. I wonder why? It’s ridiculously early. Dawn. The birds are singing their morning chorus, greeting a new day. I will put myself back to sleep. Maybe.

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1 September 2024

1:01 am 1 September. I just woke up. Well actually no, I have not actually slept. Something huge is afoot. I am being made ready. 🙂

1 September 2023

Another day in paradise. It’s a beautiful sunny day. I am waiting for the electrician to come to fix the switch that constantly blows out the powerboard when I boil my kettle. So I had to clear everything off the top of the microwave and clean the bench under it.

I have been intensely processing trauma memories in recent days. Last night I wrote down notes from my trance drumming recordings. That was intense. All these false promises of “true love” which I know is not real, but my broken distorted heartfelt ego talking.

But I was gifted with heartfelt affection and intentions on Friday night so perhaps there is finally a shift of that old demonic albatross and perhaps someone is coming into my life who won’t try to destroy me, kill me, rape me or leave me feeling unsafe and unloveable which is a soul death that permeates for eons.

Only time will tell.

1 September 2022

I am sitting in my garden. An Indian minor bird flutters down to the bird bath. It flusters about in a state of great agitation. It turns to face me and shrieks at me in bird language.

The bathtub needs fresh clean water. I know it. I get up, drain the bathtub. It’s full of possum poop. Yuck. No wonder the bird was infuriated with me.

I clean the pond out with detergent and rinse it. Put the plug back in and refill it with clean water.

I am in a contract with the gods. The birds demand I supply them clean water for bathing in. I had to laugh. The bird could have drunk out of the fishpond at the front garden but it was a matter of principle. I must maintain their standard of lifestyle before I dare complain about my own!

At least I know the birds appreciate what I co- create in my garden for them :-) I am grateful for fresh clean water, for my Sacred Space. For my righteously indignantly angry bird friends. For connectivity in cyber space (even if the reptilian overlords try to play me for a chump sometimes). Little do They know, Whom walks beside me at all times. ;-)

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I spoke to Optus as my new iPhone is overheating. A grave concern. I ordered a new SIM card (frankly a new one should be standard with a new handset). All good.

The rep politely suggests they can offer me a discount on my account as I have been a loyal customer since 1994. I get momentarily excited as I worry about the costs and live too close to the edge on my budget. (they know that I am a pensioner!)

So the rep puts me on hold for ten minutes or more. Comes back and offers me a 25 percent discount but only if I port a family member or friend to share my account? What the fuck? I live alone. I have no family left and my friends are all on different plans and there is something Machiavellian about exploiting one’s friends or family to get a fucking discount, just saying!

I sent Optus back a text to inform them of my dissatisfaction with their gaslighting. That I am a customer in good faith and have integrity. (Meaning I will carry on as usual!)

But it’s astonishing. Really truly. How I am treated.

Marking myself Safe albeit in a toxic relationship with greedy globalists and their Reptilian overlords and AI insouciant sentient masters (sentient but still lacking basic grace and human ethics and decency).

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Still struggling with quirks of my new fone. It won’t sync up with my stereo in Bluetooth. Arggghh. I used to have trouble with the old one too, so maybe it’s the stereo that is getting too old. Or I am ?!

However the sound is really good on my new fone. So I am now sitting in the garden on my cushion, on the ground, having regaled Ratih with all my latest stories from my night out last Friday. She is cleaning so I need to give her space and gather my thoughts in my Sacred Space garden.

I am thinking deeply about my persona and mana out in the Brisbane music/dance scene. How the weirdness and depravity can bring me to the brink of actual Violence and how mortifying it can be and how ultimately it all comes down to R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

Respect for the Dance, the Art, the Music, the lovers of vibratory insinuations and frequency delights and adrenaline rushes that decompensate the ancient traumas but will simply not comply with actual untrammelled dybbuk ridden debauchery. Yuck!

Maybe I have been asexual for too long? Become prudish and too pristine…but Ratih agrees with me it was far too much and I did the right thing.

However I am still having a post traumatic flushing of my limbic system as there was a moment…about 30 seconds actually…when I left my body and was galvanising my ancient warrior fully expecting to have to fight to the death if I had to.

I have not felt like that for several years …so that tells me it really was intense.

I almost wish I had found a loyal loving partner so I am not out in that scene, dancing to my own obliteration, getting stressed out of my eyeballs. But then I do manage to have some fun (before I die…) which after all is my goal.

Goal achieved! Next! Get serious Tanya. Find your nîche. Your place in the known universe. Your safe harbour. Your big chair, with warm hands, warm feet and abundance! Lol!

You see? I have been programmed by show tunes during my early childhood to not take life seriously and the inner tapes have not served me well. Romantic idealistic ridiculously high expectations of the Disney (devoid of reality checks) kind!

Like, is it too crazy to meet a handsome man and genuinely expect him to respect my body autonomy by not almost immediately lunging his hands down the back of my skirt?

Or the other fucking creeps that actually hit the Mother Node then dishonoured my passion and vitality and sexuality by screwing me over, screwing all my friends and treating me like the dirt you scrape under a shoe.

No wonder I am Asexual, a warrior goddess ready to kill for my own honour now.

No…I am not a killer. I held my composure. But I had to tamp it down. It rides with me…that rage…when I meet debauchery and dishonour. A close companion. A better friend than most mortal companions. Rides my emotions like a dragon slayer.

Somewhere hidden in that subterranean cave is the treasure. There is always a treasure, oh cherished one. 🙂

1 September 2021

Some thoughts on my “memories” of today’s date:

The last of my three beautiful soulful cats, Socks died on 9 July 2021. It was a harrowing passing because I had to have him euthanised and I was very ill with my usual respiratory illness (Not Covid!) of bronchitis/asthma and a terrible cold. I was marginalised and told I could not be with my cat for his euthanisation. I had to have a friend be there with him.

Socks was terrified as he realised the minute I handed him over to her that something untoward and extraordinary was about to happen and I felt wracked with guilt and horror that the vets had been so unreasonably fearful of Covid that they had made my cat’s death so fucking traumatic!

A few weeks later I was due for a colonoscopy and had to have a Covid test in preparation for that, and as I already knew, the Covid test came back negative so those vets were histrionic, cruel and discriminatory. This is the world I inhabit now. And none of it is okay.

As for my intuitions, I had a lovely day yesterday, and felt inspired to bake gluten free muffins and thought to myself, I will freeze them down for the next time my friend Jarrod visits. I had not seen him for four weeks.

Around 2 pm he unexpectedly messaged me and asked if I felt like a visitor? I was so surprised and delighted and told him I must have “known” something as I baked gf muffins. He laughed.

He arrived with the most beautiful runes he had handcrafted for me. The odd thing is earlier yesterday I had been looking at the business card from “The Happy Viking” whom had given me a rune reading on my birthday in April. Jarrod and my daughter had paid for the reading and had also bought a goat skin rune bag that Elizabeth makes, for my birthday.

So when he arrived with runes to go into the bag I was greatly surprised and blessed and happy but also amused that I had been thinking about runes that day also.

No accidents in the multiverses, People! :-)

1 September 2020

I just had a lovely surprise visit from my daughter, Crystal. I told her she had been on my mind all day so she must have picked up on my vibes! She quipped back that I could try texting instead of invading her psychic space. I replied that sometimes she doesn’t respond to texts but apparently she responds to my Vibes then giggled maniacally.

I am a very good telepathic communicator when I put my mind to it. (Fortunately I am Half out of my mind often enough to not be a psychic pest like my own mother!!!) I keep my mind occupied with all sorts of contrary trivialities like fb or tv shows, movies and books.

Imagine what I could achieve if I actually focussed on something!!! (That is a self-deprecating joke, People!). My mind is just fine.

Anyway I was very happy to see her. We had dinner together. Socks lay on the dining table demanding tribute and tickles. He is such a Man Cat!

I had to give him extra dinner as he would not settle until he was satiated. Then he rolled on the table so Crystal could scratch his head. He is a very happy cat now!

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Yesterday I worked hard sanding back the pink marble table (still not finished!Arrggghh) but pushed through the pain and even had a third wind.

Today I am too exhausted to do much so sat under the bald frangipane tree and read “Postscript” by Cecilia Ahern which is the sequel to “PS I Love You!”

I just had a visit from Pete with little Koko, who relished in cuddles with The Tanya which really lifted my spirits. Dear sweet affectionate little Doggess Goddess!

It’s another glorious day. It would have been perfect weather to keep fighting with that marble tabletop but I need a break. The table can be worked on another day. I hope to finish it soon. I have another one to renovate and spring is here and the days are already heating up.

I might buy a proper orbital sander to do the second one with as it is too arduous for my hands doing it by hand and has taken sooo long! I will feel really thrilled when both table tops are completed.

Anyway I still have several decoupage hat boxes and suitcases to work on. That can wait though. I am obsessed with getting the tables done.

1 September 2019

1 September 2018

The Kabbalistic Tsim-tsum, the universal contractions before expansions. Waiting for Godot, waiting to expire. The butterfly emerges from the cocoon where she was broken down into globulous mash after a lifetime of pulling back, and pushing forward (like a mechanised matchbox car) speeding to oblivion, careening carefully to the edge of reason, but shhhh, everything in its season.

I feel the contractions of a new birthing (of what? Where? When?) I need a Life. A safe harmonious love-filled life with enough prosperity to keep me sane and well-watered, comfort in my old-age end-stage, surrounded by beings of love and light and joyfulness who keep me precious (but don’t smother me, I abhor having my wings gnawed off, it gets harder and harder to regrow them).

I am grateful for the expansion and for the creation of a new paradigm. Living life fearlessly and peacefully because there is no other way than to reconcile our old ways in the new daze!

Fascism is on the march, so I call upon the Sisters of Light/Fight/Smite as we will need to be ready to sleight the Spite around us and mitigate the damages profound on the ground.

Only the Divine Feminine can save us now. But we must carry the divine masculine in our teeth and whelp that puppy where we can as He has tried to oppress his Mother for too long. Mother laid down and fed him from her own life force but now she needs to wean. Send him out into the world to become a better Man.

Then welcome him home, King to her Queen, no pawns, no ploy, no harm, no foul. Holding hands across the universes. The Aleph. The Aum. The Silent Scream. The laughter behind the screen. An ellipse, a collapse and push push push. And so it begins... winter has come and now we welcome Spring. New growth in abundance. Bring it forth.

Update 2022: …and the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls…or on my iPhone 13 max pro cos I lacked the cojones to go off grid…lmao.

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Psychedelic Dreamer Dreams... continuously, positively, ebulliently. Energy goes where thoughts flow.

A man once asked my 8 year old self, on deck on the Ellinis passenger liner, sailing back to NZ from our trip to Germany, “A Penny for your thoughts”? I had not heard that expression, so petulantly asked him what he meant? He smiled kindly. “I want to know what you are thinking, you seem so deep in thought?”

My 8 year old self, already accustomed to the unwelcome attentions of adult men shrugged. ‘Oh Jesus, not another fucking creep?’ But I stared deep into his eyes and saw only kindness and a twinkle of bemusement there.

So I returned my stare to the distant (circular) horizon and sighed “I am going Home”. He nodded and sauntered away. No harm, no foul.

If I had a penny for all the angelic interventions, for the unconditional love, for the cosmic conscious awareness, for the breath and for my thoughts why, I’d be a multi-millionaire by now.

But I never put value in artifices. My wealth is my heart and my financial status perfectly mirrors the degrees to which it was broken and glued together again too many times, so many times, that I am penniless, thought-less and breathless but never the Less.

I rise up on angels wings and prayers and heart-centred gifts of the gods, with my ambrosia (chocolate) and the occasional liquid bliss and most precious and beautiful of all: the Love I receive from my friends (and daughter and my cousins!)

1 September 2017

Woke up to BCC man at my door. Someone malicious has complained about my roosters. I have to rehome them. I know it is someone being nasty as the roosters have been here for 9 months. I raised them from Chicks.

Anyway, upsetting but nothing I can do. Will drive them to RSPCA at Wacol as Capalaba Produce won't take them anymore.

So now I lose two more pets. What else is the spiteful neighbour going to complain about? My existence? If I fart in my garden?

I know I put out to the universe that I want to live in Byron Bay but do I have to be driven out of my lovely home by neighbourhood envy and spite?! Weird shit.

Last time they falsely claimed my dog is a nuisance. But they have a legitimate complaint with the roosters. Mind you they are not loud and only Crow during the day. Then only for short periods.

The council man was lovely but gave me only 2 days to rehome them. I would have preferred they went to people on acreage as I don't like taking them to RSPCA but no time to dally.

I told the council man I had 2 hens die last week and now this.

Anyway better take them to Wacol now.

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Trigger warning: csa, workplace harassment, trauma activation

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I was working at the Police Academy in early 2000. That was one of the worst years of my life. I remember dragging myself to work, deeply unhappy, barely functioning, suffering abuse at home directed at me by my mother, her conman partner (she married him a few years later) and my own abortive love affair with that homeopath psychopath.

I was struggling to pull together a Bat Mitzvah for Jasmine with very little money and a co- worker was helping me. I was in full breakdown mode.

It was on a day I did not want to be there (or anywhere). Preferably dead, but I could never let my former lover or family win. I had children to raise.

So I sat at my keyboard on the work pc and I wrote "I love you" all over the page, through my lunch break. 30 minutes of I love yous. Gradually I felt calmer and more centred. The IT manager came up from her department to gently tap me on my shoulder.

"I love you too".

"What?!"

I had disassociated, so focused on telling myself I was loveable. She informed me that the Police Academy tracked every computer in the place and I was being monitored and although she understood I was trying to soothe myself, she recommended I don't do that at work as I would be judged for it. A warning. Did I want to go home?

“Yes” I said, “I want to go Home so badly”. But I finished out the day, grateful that I was loved enough to save my arse in that toxic environment by that lovely woman who worried I might lose my job because I loved me.

That job finished in June 2000 but in many ways I was on the path to healing in the midst of my own juicy deconstruction, like a caterpillar in limbo. It was a tough year, which by September became so tortured (Jasmine acted out by stealing, I cut ties to my evil mother for telling me that my half-sister and I were "dirty little girls who deserved our abuse" that I barely survived it).

2001 was no kinder. I left a horrific abusive job a QFRA in March 2001 and have not worked again. A long hard impoverished road back to The Tanya. The perfectly imperfect blessed loved beautiful and intrinsically happy one.

Cauterised and despised by Fate, The Tanya keeps growing out of old skins and old tormented loves and shines as an example. You can survive almost anything, including your own self destruction.

"You shall not die but live" but how you live amidst such horror, precariously positioned at the fringe of society, scorned by ignorant and hateful humanoids, those who can't connect to or comprehend your suffering as they have had ordinary lives, how you continue to live is a miracle in itself.

I am beautiful. I am Love. I am Me.

1 September 2016

Today I have felt emotionally shattered and disassociative after my epic wrangling with the Commonwealth bank customer relations person yesterday. The issue has been resolved but I still feel the injustice and mishandling of it all.

I am sick of Hashem throwing me on the razors edge of the war on evil. I am just one little exhausted trauma survivor and was told today by a close friend that I scare people. Me? Lol! Yeah well some people should be scared.

The kinds of people who damage women/children and people with Complex PTSD barely ekeing an existence on Disability pensions because of aforementioned trauma issues brought on by abuses of women and children.

1 September 2015

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4.26 pm at Byron Bay. Got here around 4. I have had a lovely stomp around in the surf. Enough to get my togs wet but it was too cold to actually swim or bodysurf. Never mind.

The air is fresh and reviving. The sea takes all my negativity away and reminds me of Eternity. It was busy on the roads all the way. I left at 2 pm.

I had a major hold up as I lost my prescription and had run out of 3 of my meds. So I searched the house for 2 hours, had a massive anxiety attack, rang Lyn, (sorry for my irritation Lyn) then went to the chemist to get a loan on the meds I need.

I made an appointment for my gp tomorrow for a replacement script. Then thought Fuck it! The Universe in His own Perverse way is conspiring against me, so I am going to Byron Bay anyway!

So you can imagine how blissful I feel now! Wow! I think I will sit here on the beach until the sun goes down, then grab dinner and head back home. It is good to be free.

I listened to Led Zeppelin all the way here. Dazed and confused kept playing various versions. By the 4th cover I thought, I will give you Dazed and Bloody Bollocking Confused. Only I am not confused at all. Maybe a bit battered and dazed. My schnozz still hurts slightly.

Anyway it's a weird world and it's always gonna be that way, so I might as well enjoy it.

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1 September 2014

I have had a headache all night. Sore neck and gland up under left armpit. Hmmm! Might be coming down with something nasty.

I spent the last few hours, watching Fringe.

1 September 2011

I had another go at making crystallised violets with only slightly better success than last time. More evidence that I was never born to be a Domestic, merely a Goddess! LOL.

Oh well, more important things in life than crystallised violets, if only I knew what they were! Tahylia came with Gail and helped make them, then played on her playstation. A good evening!

1 September 2010

Still feel out of breath. Saw my GP who for once was vaguely empathic. She noted I wasn't getting much air in, which made me feel happy that I'm not imagining it all. Now I have a script for Prednisone to nip it all in the bud. I'll hold off til payday though as I think I might be a little better today.

1 September 2008

is exhausted from visiting her mother (sigh)

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons