Memories: 14 January 2026

14 January 2026

8:32 am. Had an intense and brightly coloured dream about clearing a toilet of an enormous shit that had blocked the drain and so the water was backing up and starting to overflow over the toilet seat. Somehow it was close to a beautiful blue watered swimming pool and I was terrified that the shit would backflow into that and contaminate it because there were children swimming.

I was panicking and stabbing at the giant turd with a stick, trying to break it up into smaller flushable pieces. It was round and solid like the size of a man’s fist.

I am poking and tearing at my hair, sweating and panicking. I hear a voice or guidance tell me…”if you don’t clear that up it will be a feedback loop as the swimming pool recycles the water but does not flush it away and replenish like the toilet does!”

I reply “I know, it’s why am freaking out. I don’t want the children or anyone swimming in all that ecoli.” (In real life my mother, dying with Alzheimers ultimately died from an ecoli infection. It was beyond awful what she went through in the aged care facility. Beyond beyond awful. Which is why I scrabble my mind together each day, terrified of losing my own ability to function and “get my own shit together”.

Dreaming of shit is awful and humbling but ironically is often a sign that money is coming. So if that manifests in my life that will be most welcome. Especially if like the water in the swimming pool I can keep it untainted by other people’s envy and greed and corruption and have that money remain in circulation, clean and clear, debt free in a self perpetuating feedback loop or even better have it grow into sustaining prosperity without fear of backflow from other people’s shit.

Psy sighs. It’s just a dream but sometimes the important messages are resonant. Breaking up with giant turd burgs, releasing and letting it all flow away is actually what I have done recently. So the “work” continues…

14 January 2025

An improvement this morning. I pushed myself hard yesterday, even feeling rather exhausted. A few hours of reading “Arabian nights” on my YouTube channel, then when my tools arrived in the post, I hit the ground running, learning from YouTube how to insert the new gravers into the graver handles then doing that, then practising engraving on two rings I made back in 2022.

A new direction with my silversmithing, learning how to engrave. (Well it’s an art form that I may not gain mastery in but if I can make basic designs and pretty up my flush stone setting to make star patterns around the stone settings)…I will be delighted with that. So far I have only set one stone so that too, is another journey of discovery I intend to pursue!

I wonder what mischief and Magick I will achieve today? I might rest today (she says…lol) as I am in some intense soul enervation and/or metamorphosis which is amazing but if I overdo it I will crash and burn.

My Muse drives me very hard and forgets I am an older woman with health issues. Awwww. Well, the aging thing is a fact of nature but if I keep “succeeding” at my small triumphant goals, I might just kick down the walls of atrophy imposed by societal oppression and my fraught health…and flyyyy…Babies.

…

14 January 2023

…

3.52 am home from a lovely night of wild joyous dancing. People were extra kind and loving. So was I!

The times are a-changing. Grateful for “The Sweetening”.

14 January 2022

…

2:22 am unable to sleep. Twitterpated. For no reason…it’s a strange feeling to be this euphoric in the middle of the night. Something is about to change for me. No idea what. Hopefully it’s something lovely!

14 January 2021

Tired and drained. Not sure how much is because of the anaesthetic or today’s fiasco. Time to take Bobo and Charlie for a walk. Not ever letting the bastards grind me down!

…

Attention: HEALTH RIGHTS COMMISSION

Just been charged $114.55 for a skin cancer shaving that I did not expect. The doctor was rude and said he had to give me “options” and that I need to spend $500 on skin laser or SPI.

Molechex can just fuck off. I won’t be back.

I have to wait two days to get the Medicare rebate. What a scam!

I Am So angry first of all made to wait 22 minutes for treatment only to be insulted that I need to save up for the expensive skin treatment. He said “other patients who need this save up the money!” I replied “I don’t earn $150k a year to be so glib! You know I am a Disability Pensioner!”

What a load of horseshit. I am shaking from the anaesthetic and the rage at the humiliations as well.

Thomas started the treatment by pressing close into me with his thigh. I should have walked out then. Why do I consistently put my trust in doctors of any kind? Violators is all they are!!!

I now have to wait two days to get a rebate from Medicare which are no longer at Carindale shopping centre so I have to go to Centrelink at Stones Corner. More bullshit.

I CAN’T EVEN ACCESS MEDICAL TREATMENT WITHOUT BEING MADE TO FEEL LIKE AN ARSEHOLE OR VIOLATED!!! ITS HEINOUS!!!

My parting comment as I left that clinic was that I would rather die of cancer than be insulted or humiliated like that.

But from my lips to God’s ears...be careful what you say before the gods. They take everything quite quite literally.

I find it interesting that in recent days I have been wearing my new Mexican dress and even painting the Sacred Heart on my bookshelves (another Mexican symbol). I wore my skull crystal earrings and my skull skirt with a blue lace top and even a skull designed mask.

Hmm the ancient Mayan or Inca gods have my back but even they can’t spare me skin cancer on a frying planet not conducive to my white freckled feckless flesh or the arrogance and disrespect of skin doctors.

This one sounded Latin American but this has nothing to do with race. This is misogyny and classism. I am abused simply because of my status as a trauma patient!

Good enough only to lean in with a carefully positioned thigh and to be exploited monetarily from my meagre funds to pay for their clinic/fancy homes/ Lexus cars etc etc etc.

Deemed fuckwithable by our filthy arrant Society.

No wonder I gave up on sex years ago with men. Look at how just going to a doctor is precarious for me!!!

This is the fifth bad experience I have had with this clinic. I left the Coorparoo one as there was sexual Harassment. (Although to be fair that doctor lasered my skin cancer site on my forehead for free. Even my gp was amazed as she stated that that treatment usually costs $200!

(There is nothing for free!!!)

I stopped seeing that doctor as he liked to get me undressed then discussed religion and spirituality while Leering at my coral necklace and my white middle-aged breasts (a man who had newborn twins at home!)

Then the last doctor at the Carindale clinic was rude and upselling me also.

What the actual fuck?! What what what the fuck?

I told this current creature that I did not appreciate the upselling. He said it was not upselling but the best practise option. As a doctor he has to give me options. Here’s my option: fuck off!

This may be true but I don’t have the income to supply these MEN WHO TREAT ME WORSE THAN A PROSTITUTE WITH A LIFESTYLE I CANNOT AFFORD.

…

14 January 2020

Crystal just popped in for a cup of tea. First time I have seen her in 8 weeks. Lovely. She had hired a car as she was supposed to be filming but the filming got cancelled due to storms. So she came to see me for a little while. :-)

…

I just got back from the dog park where I met a very sweet sensitive man who was there with his two little dogs. He watched me for a while, as I played ball with Beauregard then came over to the fence to have a chat.

He is a music teacher and seemed a very kind sweet person. I am quite sure he is married though but there was no sexual agenda and we chatted amicably for a while.

He was anxious about his dogs when any larger dogs arrived as he was in the large dog area. I said that I take Beauregard in the small dog area but only when there are no other dogs as he can get a bit savage. But he seemed to like the man’s two little girl dogs. They were part shitsu-Maltese.

Anyway I thanked the man for the lovely chat as it is unusual to have people be friendly there. (Of course I am usually avoiding any contact due to Beauregard’s predelictions of being unpredictable around other dogs).

But I feel happy as I have been praying to my angels to bring me new friends and/or a potential partner that are kind, decent, loving and loyal.

So today was a little demonstration that there are sweet souls out there and in time I may even meet someone available for a real relationship.

Sweetness!!! Thank you Universe for answering my prayers in big and small ways and letting me see the kindness in strangers and little blossoming potentialities everywhere. It eases some of my despair over recent disappointments in former friends’ crass behaviours.

Always a light at the end of the tunnel although I have been too often accustomed to it being a freight train mowing me down. Here we go again...up on my tootsies. Rise and Shine! :-)

….

I received this message recently. I must say they have really got me thinking about my value as a person on this planet. Especially as this came from a stranger, messaging me on another site.

I will redact the person’s details as it was intended as a private message, but it just came out of the blue and seemed to my hypervigilant mind to be “too good to be true”. Alas I have reached a point in my life that I mistrust the goodness along with the abuse. Not a good way of existing but there it is. My new reality.

“Dear Tanya , I value your request re fb . I don’t have time to use it very much as I have been hacked so many times .. I also think the likes are just ego driven and people misinterpret the herd instinct which fb uses in its algorithms...feel good, fear of missing out. My one son has a co affiliated to google so I get the insights and horrible info most vulnerable pple are not aware of.

I realise from your story that you have had to adapt to your horrific traumatic multiple experiences but it appears that you can emotionally express yourself so well that a book is what I suggest.

You really write well and with borderlines, personality disorders, narcissistic people trying to darken your beautiful light you appear to have risen and embodied your love and joy which is best mode of operating amongst these dark damaged frail individuals who have not had your back.

I have treated people for years to overcome just one bad experience and you appear to have had multiple stabs into your beautiful psyche . Please email me at (email redacted) ********. and I would love to meet you some time.

My hubby is an anaesthetist and it is not known that many of these souls cry after an anaesthetic ....unconscious features rise to the surface. We are researching this phenomena as many anaesthetists have reported this and our psychologists often find these people are suffering and using projection to overcome their emotions.

Stay well, Have you ever read Jung ? If not the time is ripe ... Some of my hero’s are Frankel Fromm Dostoevsky Kafka and Freud and Jung . xxx. (Name redacted)”

14 January 2019

Thank you God! For healing my heart. For expanding my consciousness. For replenishing my mind. For gifting me with unconditional eternal Love. For surrounding me with beauty that nurtures and nourishes my Neshamah.

For guiding me through the darkest times and the most grotesque horrors. For removing the shards from my eyes so I can see clearly. For the incredible strength and wisdom bestowed upon me by a long life of epic torment.

For keeping me safe and somewhat precious even in the midst of my own rage and ugly judgements. For bringing me to a long desired plateau on a distant horizon: Peace.

Thank you for the weird dreams and complex schemes which guide me in the ether.

Thank you for sunshine, happiness, good health, prosperity and good kind soul-nourishing protective loves.

Thank you for the Muses and for music, Art, Light and Blessings. For rain to nourish parched gardens and dessicated hearts. For the wind that purges stagnant befoulments. For the stars in the heavens and the earth beneath my feet.

For the enormous gift of the sea, and the tiny fractalised miracle of tears.

For Life. For Death. For the folly that stands with eyes wide open and in warrior pose, in between.

For the souls that hold me to this earth, in triumphant acclamation. For the ones that were cruel and unworthy who I had to shake free of their clamouring shackles.

For my teachers: the animals, the plants, spirits, and a few rare wise humans.

This is a gratitude prayer without end. 🙂. Remember this when I am laid low and utter curses again. The rise and the fall. A pirouette and a parody. A paradisaical ponderance.

I plight my troth to the Holy One who always watches and waits and lifts me up when the going gets too tough.

I am my Beloved and my Beloved is in me. As above so below.

If you’re not with me, you again’ me so hold your horses Mustang Kwe, we got “work” to do. Every day, in every way, better not bitter. Love is the Law. It might have perniciously betrayed me a million times but it’s still as real as my flesh and bones and deluded denuded heart.

My enemies shall merit their own karma and I will need to find a new level of love never before anticipated. Open my heart to the miraculous and the ridiculous. See! Hear! Feel! And jive turkey my hide to the other side!

14 January 2017

Some Elvis impersonator guy showed up at the casino last night. I have seen him there a few times in the past year. He is kinda sleazy (thank you very much) but it is amusing to me as several years ago I had a brief fling with another Elvis impersonator (I did not meet him in his costume but he showed me his jumpsuit and had an amazing hearse all done up custom-style with purple and gold seats. (He had also worked as a funeral Director).

Anyway I told him my friend Gail would go insane with envy as she actually has an Elvis impersonator fetish (ew!) so he and I sent her a photo of him. It was insanely funny but FML how does this weird shit even happen to me??? (Rhetorical question, don't answer it).

But anyway Elvis left the building and carried on with his mad spree of conquering women and I kept myself free for true love and a meaningful relationship (cough hack spew). You know my usual Holy Grail.

Gail did go a bit insane as she had always wanted to get married in Las Vegas by an Elvis impersonator. Haha. Very cute when I was bumbling through life, minding my own business but inadvertently living out my women friends' wildest fantasies.

Then there was the guy who told me he was Peter Pan (oh sweet Moses, thought I) then revealed a giant tattoo the whole length of his thigh of Tinkerbell that he had done in Thailand. Nice guy. Englishman.

Left me a sweet note the next morning from Peter Pan. I kid you not! Gail got very excited about that one too, and insisted I keep the note on my fridge.

I recently threw it out after keeping it there (as a nod and wink to JM Barrie as a commentator on my odd romantic/sex life) for several years.

Decluttered my fridge of quirky art cards and my one and only love note from the third star on the right. Hahaha.

I am single for a reason. Insanity is a blessing. Catch and release program for The Tanya. That was before I fell in love with another lunatic. Psy sighs!

Morris Mohanen Minchiyathu: One Elvis impersonator was there in the Casino last Friday.

Me: Same one lol. Not the idiot I let into my inner sanctum though.

That one was too stingy to leave me a $2 bottle of Solo lemonade. Lmao! I shall remain Solo. It’s much safer, more serene that way!

Actually that one I saw (weird sleazy Elvis guy). Well Sally tried to introduce me to him on Friday night. I just smiled vaguely and wandered off.

He looked awkward too. He knows I don’t like him. But Sally seems to like him so I am happy for her. I am a bit wary when it comes to certain people at the casino.

“Peter Pan” came to stalk me again a few months ago. I just ignored him, pretended I did not recognise him. So he creepily leant over and placed his glass on the stage in front of me. I looked at him with a deliberately blank expression.

Like wtf?! They just use women then expect us to crawl all over them? Not even a Hello! Just slime over our energy like slugs.

Anyway like the other former casual partners he can only come to stare or try to get close enough to me to give me the Heebie Jeebies.

It’s like they think after 4 or 5 years they can just turn up and insinuate themselves into my life again. I regretted letting “Dead Elvis” creature have a second chance.

No more...I deserve a man who is genuine and respectful and actually loving.

Morris Mohanan Minchiyathu: Who is Peter Pan?

Me: The guy in the story above with the Tinkerbell tattoo (Another English idiot!) I can’t even remember his name lol.

It was a bit triggering getting a note from him when he left my house from Peter Pan.

My childhood friend used to leave me love messages from an imaginary prince (written on chalk on smooth stones) at the beach. She would leave them for me to find in our fort with little shells or flowers.

I had my own “prince charming” from 4 or 5 years old. It meant a lot to me as a child. Being loved. Didn’t have much real love in my family home. So Lynne and I had a lovely faery story world we inhabited.

Hard to imagine that although I married young my “Prince” - as in a good solid genuine authentic decent respectful caring protective, loyal/faithful, generous, loving romantic partner - never actually manifested in my life!

The real world can seem very bleak and ugly and sad and lonely without romance, passion and real love.

Lucky I was blessed with a great imagination, a love of books and movies so I could get that side of life vicariously.

…

10.26 am. Woken up after 5 hours sleep by council workmen whippersnipping my verge.

Bloody ear is sore and swollen again which will be related to teeth. Arggghh. Feet still sore from dancing. I am glad I went out in spite of my health issues.

At the end of the night I caught up with my homeless friend. She gave me two lovely rings and a bracelet. I was really touched. She said she had blessed the rings and they would bring me luck in love. Bless her heart. I had gone in the 7-11 to buy her and myself a coffee.

She said she had been in Sydney for four months and it was horrible as her homeless "husband" ditched her. I told her I need to win lotto so I can buy her, myself and my close friends a house. (My usual promise!)

I wish I could manifest a life that is prosperous and financially stable and independent. But wishes are fairy tales of hope. She is a sweetheart and deserves the best that life has to offer. As do we all but some are just Incredible jewels of light and cast aside by society.

She said she was writing her testimony, her bible. She handed me a notebook with poetry and her ramblings. Some of it was actually very good. Some delusional. I liked it though. I told her that her writing is very good for the soul and a good outlet for the emotions. She was happy.

In a way Katrina and I are incredibly powerful and wealthy. We have a measure of freedom not often experienced by mainstream people. We laugh in the face of our misery. Live precariously but with faith in a higher power and are fuelled by a fiery love that even callow men have not completely vanquished.

I had a lovely time dancing with Karen, Sally, Jo and Greg last night. Jo's shoe broke apart. I suggested she chew some chewing gum to temporarily hold the sole on. So she did and it worked! But then the side of the shoe came apart. More chewing gum. But it was not holding so MacGyver Tanya champion person came up with another idea.

I went into my bag of tricks and pulled out a hair elastic. Jo put it over the shoe and it held the shoe together for the remainder of the night. Genius. So that was great as I keep a spare pair of high heels in my car but she is 2 sizes smaller than my hobbit feet.

Anyway the chewing gum/hair elastic idea of mine was rather clever. It meant Jo could keep dancing.

14 January 2016

I miss my iphone. Mainly because I can't use the camera and take cute photos of the crows surrounding me in the garden and of my fishpond. Such a pity.

I need to go out and buy milk. I have only 5 bucks to my name. Just enough to buy milk. Petrol in the car though. I should just go for a little drive to Aldi and back. Something to do. Also milk :).

…

Some cockhead pranked me yesterday on my home phone, around 11.30 am. A woman rang and asked if it was AA's rooms. I was asleep still so I just said Uh No and hung up.

Now I am trying to figure out who has my number as I rarely give out my private home number and I rarely get any calls on it. So it's weird.

I have had calls on my mobile asking for Aaron's laundry which is understandable as you know Arons is similar, but AA???? A bloody A? Oh well, they haven't rung back so all good in the 'hood.

….

I slept all day until 3.30 pm. Beauregard too. We got up to a lovely cooling down afternoon. I am sitting in the garden with my laptop as no iphone for several days or ever if it is ruined by the fishpond water. Grrrr. But in a way it is peaceful and I still have this form of communication. Look out stalkees. LOL.

Beauregard is gnawing on a big meaty bone. I gave him a fresh (frozen) one so he is pretty chuffed with that. He has been a lovely dog this week, over his savagery from 2 weeks ago. Noice. He still tried to bite me occasionally, but not as seriously.

My fishpond is delightful. 10 big comets in it. (I thought there were only 6 left, as it was too murky to see them!) I need to get a pump and filter asap so I can enjoy tinkling water and clear ponds again.

I am trying to sell the Lladro on ebay to help with my finances but no joy there. Life is strange. I got deprived of a beautiful home, (several actually!) and now sit on white elephant stuff from my mother that is not sellable.

I should just have a mosaic session and smash it all up. Hmmm. Tempting. I am trying to declutter my life. I feel trapped in my tiny house with all mum's china and crystal and furniture.

Maybe after living here almost 13 years (in May) I just have itchy feet and am ready to move on. I can't do that though, as I would never get such a nice house and garden again, from Housing Commission. So here I sit, like a fetid toad, waiting to catch flies. Or fly over the mountain to the nearest rainbow. Whichever comes first.

Yesterday I had a bad mood disorder, feeling euphoric one minute and depressed the next. I hate my moods swinging like that. I've always been moody from trauma but it's getting worse as I get older.

I never expected to get older. Never. Especially with my shitty lungs. But here I sit, almost 51 in April (marking time like a prisoner in a cave with no daylight or hope of deliverance) trying to figure out where my life is going to lead me next.

On a road to nowhere, destination Alzheimers probably. After seeing how the ‘residents' were treated in the high care facility that my mother was granny dumped in by the con-artist sisters, I would rather suicide.

Don't get mad at me or hate me if one day in years to come, I just do it. I don't ever want anyone to have control over where I shit, how I eat or where I sit or lie down.

I am a free spirit. Putting creatures of light and love and freedom in a cage and cutting their hair off, as the staff are too lazy to brush it, once they realised the family won't visit anymore so won't see the horror of that beautiful hair butchered away.

I will never forget the look in that poor woman's eyes, even with dementia, she kept putting her hands up to her hair. She was only my age, surely not much older than 50. I was devastated for her. She's probably dead now.

I believe they deliberately overdosed people on various substances to hasten their death. No proof though. I did report it anonymously but nothing was done. I demanded independant visitors to check on the place. Eventually it got closed down.

Not before my mother suffered mysteriously from a broken hip when she was last hospitalised before her death. Bastards. If I could have proven it, I would have sued them.

Even the gerontologist at Redlands Hospital was furious but it quickly 'went' away. Doctors covering for each other, and that Home full of lying malicious staff. Yeah. My mother my monster, but ever my mother.

I did what I could to fight for her, advocate for her all my life, but especially then, I even advocated for other patients. I brought in clothes to distribute amongst the patients who had no family so had literally no clothes. Lyn helped me gather clothing to donate.

Yeah, it was just shy of scenes from life in former Romanian orphanages and homes, just short of chaining them to the bed and leaving them in their own shit. One staff member complained to me that I did not change my mother's diaper. I could not bring myself to do it.

I know, Horrible. But that was their job. I did help her on and off the toilet on the rare occasions that I visited and she asked me to take her. Enough Already. I was traumatised the entire 18 months I saw her there. Very triggered and traumatised by her living conditions.

14 January 2014

Sarah and I are going out like Blisters in the sun. Be @ irish Murphy's to hear Woody strut his stuff!

….

Feeling Harassed by my Sleep Specialist. Got woken up by his secretary with whom I had a lot of missed calls over Christmas week, so I dutifully made an appointment for 5th Feb in the first week of January as I need a new medical cert each year for my drivers license.

So this morning she calls me and says there is a note to get me in early and as they have a cancellation can I come in at 10 am? I said No. I made an appointment with you and I am sleeping and I didn't ask to be put on cancellation list. She says he wanted to see me 6 months ago. I said I was not informed of that.

I just want them to fuck off and leave me alone but I sense they are gonna beat me down to force me to have CPAP machine or take my license. There is nothing wrong with my driving and I don't drive tired but I believe the govt is pressuring the specialists to make patients comply with the govt sponsored torture which didn't help my lungs at all.

It's very ironic that the only time my doctors are proactive about treating me is when they are hounded by a fascist govt.

My mind is officially Blown.

I am not going to take the CPAP crap. I can't sleep with that crap forcing out into my chest or cope with the chronic pain is gave me all day after using it at night. Fuck That Shit.

Yes, my lungs are shitty but I have survived this way since I was 4 years old and I am almost 49 now. I want to enjoy my life, not have medical treatments that don't work for me, forced on me.

So there is gonna be one hell of a fight.

My specialist even agreed with me last year when I commented that it is wrong to force a patient to have a treatment they don't want and which doesn't work and I felt he was being pressured. He totally agreed with me.

So I am gonna go back to sleep :-) if I can after this wake-up call of nonsense.

…

I had a lovely day with Sarah and Crystal.

Now ready to schluff with my other best girl, Miss Penny. We are snuggled up in bed waiting to dream. Laila Tov!

14 January 2013

Having my hair done! Feeling pretty and rejuvenated! Woohoo!

…

I am extremely happy with the beautiful quality time I've been able to share one-on-one with my darling Lyn. She's cooked me some lovely meals and her gorgeous husband Peter has allowed me to indulge in the sublime bliss of their glorious swimming pool. I am feeling so relaxed, calm and generally Happy!

These past few weeks with my mates has been truly awesome! I'm truly Blessed! I had an awesome Christmas period with Annette also. It's been the best summer I've had in many years. Lots of swimming and also lots of dancing every weekend. My legs and feet might be in considerable pain but it's been worth it!

14 January 2011

14 January 2010

My cat Zulu who ran away 4 years ago to live with some old man in our street, came back two days ago. I was so happy until I realised something must have happened to the old man.

The neighbours told Crystal he'd had a hernia and gone to live with his children but they forgot my cat. Oh well, it's nice to have him back even if I am only his last resort. Typical male, only came back for food!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons