Memories: 17 June 2025
“Hack” and other slings and arrows of malfeasant misfortune.

17 June 2025
My planned obsolescence iPhone motherfuckery won’t let me take photos now. So my sleep report is 1.1 events per hour. 8:57 hours sleep. Great!
Here I go…another day in globalist actual consumerist obsolete Hell.
My first thought this morning was about treachery, about a man who tried to destroy me but failed yet again. About an entire society so poisoned they can’t think straight and that was long before Covid unleashed itself on our planet.
I have fought against that toxic seepage since infancy. Held my own…mostly alone for 60 years. Only in the past five years have I found myself blossoming, like a gnarled old tree, reaching for potentiates long denied me by veritable monsters. Cracked that glass ceiling that tried to starve me of light, love, success, gnosis, courage and of passion.
When it cracked, it was cataclysmic, but mostly silent. A silent screaming unravelling, followed swiftly by a joyous recalibration that frankly, even made the angels weep in wonder.
So here I am. Not as alone as I thought I was. Loved. Cared for. Respected. Things I had to gift myself. Worth it.
Where will I be in five years? Or ten? I don’t know. But I know something. I have the most spectacular people in my life who encourage and defend me. Who delight in my achievements because they know what I have fought and survived to achieve so much…yet so little.
Every breath, every step forward, every dance…an exercise in courage and of beautiful soul expression and Corazon (heart).
My heart goes on…eternal sunshine in a shellshocked shellacked mind. Coherence…try it sometime…it is formidable. Mind body spirit working together in perfect synergy with life force and soul and innate joy brings…peace.
Knowing I could not have done better or differently with the fake lovers that kept trying to kill me. With a world gone mad and turned into eloi, sitting around waiting to be picked off.
I had to dig deep to find a measure of forgiveness…for myself…for wishing the world was peopled by braver, kinder, more decent, honouring people, and forgiveness for those who thought it was fun to watch a woman struggle to reclaim herself only to try to destroy her again, because some dude was jealous of her courage and her light.
I mean “What?” Really! Forgiveness might be too soon…or moot.
Let the Divine Feminine arise, shine and watch the wormèd ones wither. I have witnessed this many times before. “Chosen” to live out this life as a Survivor, a thriver and to bear witness to the fall of Western society. It’s chilling, terrifying but at times, scintillating.
Knowing that when the dust finally settles there will be a different kind of world…one that treats me better…because it finally gets it. Hmmm…let’s hope so. I have endured quite enough bullshit. Enough already!
…
Busy day. I washed down the spare bedroom, sorted things out. Then went to Bunnings to buy a heater as the birds are cold during the night.
Then got stuck into assembling the heater, then cleaned their cages. I felt dizzy and exhausted by the time I finished cleaning their cages. But I pushed through as I had decided to upgrade the screws holding the leather straps which hold my hammers on the side of my jewellers bench. Larger, stronger screws that will hold the heavier hammers.
I still have the kitchen/dining area to wash down. But I have made much progress.
I have made dinner and am now watching “The Pope’s Exorcist”. Feeling like I have everything in order, feels great! Although my hands are aching with arthritis, I am achieving.
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I am going to renovate “Elvis” teddy! His voicebox still works. It sings “Love me Tender” but his white jumpsuit looks awful. I am going to try to remake it with real white leather. Hopefully I have enough to at least do his bottom half.

17 June 2024
7:12 am I just woke up. I woke up earlier to pee, around 5 am from a very disturbing dream that felt so real I wasn’t sure if I was lucid or not. But I put myself back to sleep because as usual I am exhausted.
The dream was a weird nightmare but I wish to record it in case it has some significance and isn’t just my brain slowly dying and defragmenting with my fucking sleep apnoea.
Anyway I woke up, feeling utterly fragile and horrified as I dreamed that I had been lying in my bed but went outside and opened the back door to look outside and breathe fresh air. I stood out on my back portico, only for a few moments. Breathed. Then walked back to my bedroom and was about to climb back into my bed so pulled the doona back.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a largish black creature that looked like a shiny black skull attached to a long black centrepede crawling amongst my pillows. I shudder with ghastly horror. (Now this is kinda funny as in real life I was looking at a similar creature on hocus focus as a meme last night).
So in my dream, very lucidly I say to myself, ‘Don’t freak out Tanya, it’s just that picture you saw last night before you went to sleep’. Okay. So I move to get into bed, a bit gingerly as all my body is tingling with fear and horror. Like really heightened and ready for anything.
Then I see another movement and this time the skull centipede thing has transformed into a very large rhinoceros beetle with scratchy legs crawling between my pillows. It is also very shiny and black and it feels like it is a tad scared of me.
I stifle an urge to scream but I reach behind me and grab a can of WD40 and I think, that’s not gonna do much, I need fly spray and then I think, that thing is so huge even fly spray won’t help, but I shrug. I just want it gone from my bed! I just want to lie back down and go back to sleep.
So I spray the giant rhinoceros beetle about four big spritzes and it shudders and rolls over on its back in pain and horror, not believing that I would attack it like that. I feel so ashamed that my fear of this creature, appearing rather randomly in my bed, has made me savage and murderous like that. I mean it’s just a bug. A 5 inches long, black shiny beetle with scary prickly legs and horns etc.
Before I can scoop it out of my bed it transforms into a bird. A greyish bird, looking a bit like an Indian minor bird. It looks at me, fearful and I can still smell the awful fish oil smell of the WD40 on the bird and now on my pillows and doona.
It flies across my bedroom and lands on top of my large wooden apothecary box with all the drawers. It perches there, shaking with fear and I sense it is hoping that I will leave it alone and let it live.
I calmly walk over to the bird and I see its long shiny whitish coloured beak and ruffled feathers and its gentleness and fear and I say to it “I’m so sorry. I overreacted. I didn’t know you were a bird. I love birds. I don’t know how you came to be in my house or in my bed but I will put you outside now”.
I reach my hand out to the bird, expecting it to bite me out of fear, but it placidly steps into my forefinger and sorta looks at me with resignation and still understandable distrust. My heart blooms and I walk with the bird on my finger and I am conscious of its tiny feet gripping hard on my finger as it tries to maintain equilibrium on our walk to the back door.
I open the back door and hold it out into the crisp dawn air and it flies away. I go back to my bed and think, what the fuck was that?
I climb back into my bed and fall instantly asleep. The bed no longer smells of WD40 and the strange metamorphosing creature is gone so I fall asleep (still in my dream!)
The dream shifts to me walking up a path near a house. I don’t recognise the house but there are two men there, walking with me. As we walk past some shrubbery in a garden bed we look down and see a large black shiny centipede with a human skull for a head slithering up the path.
The men scream and jump back. I nod. “I had one like that show up in my bed the other morning. Don’t worry! It’s just a shapeshifter. It means no actual harm!” But the men look terrified, so cold as ice I take my boot and stomp on the black skull of the centipede and under my foot it turns to some sticky gelatinous slimy mush.
I turn to the men. “See? Whatever that is, it’s not real!” The men look at me in horror. Like I am the most evil foulest creature they ever saw. Then we all just nod at each other and continue walking up the path to the house.
I wake up, for real, needing to pee. I go do that and fall into bed again. Exhausted.
Update 19 June 2025: Memory from two years and two days ago: I hesitated to reshare the dream but I have been thinking deeply about how elements of it has come true. The grey bird (newly arrived in my life on 13th May 2025) is little Beau. He has a yellow head but he is mostly grey.
The faery shapeshifting from something evil and menacing to begging for forgiveness or mercy…hmmm…a lot can be said about that.
The rhinoceros beetle I tried to crush…my cpap mask that arrived in my life on 4 July 2024. Something I fought against for 23 years, only submitting as it was suggested it would aid my bladder issues. (It has only slightly assisted…).
Sleep is for the righteous, the patient, those who have comfort and ease. Ahem!

17 June 2023
5:55 am I can’t sleep. I had a fabulous time out dancing last night. The energy was very high. I felt beautiful and powerful. I moved my body to the music and let so much positivity flow.
Jo danced with me. We were a formidable force of feminine mystique…One of the regulars, an Irishman named Steve approached us towards the end of the night. He said “You ladies have been dancing all night long!” I replied smartly “We ladies have been dancing All night long for 12 years!” He gasped in surprise. Jo smiled and nodded “It’s true!”
They have had 12 years to treat us decently and perhaps date us lmao. Anyway he said it’s his birthday in 2 weeks time (27June!) so I wished him Happy Birthday and kissed both his cheeks. He seemed delighted.
Then I quipped that now it will be his birthday every time I see him at the casino. Jo said her birthday is the next day on 28th June so I repeated the ritual and gave her a kiss on both cheeks.
The voyeuristic pals at the back of the dance floor watched with bemusement and envy. It turns out Steve lives in Holland Park too. Small world. I made the error of judgement to tell him I live in Diamond Street as diamonds are a girls best friend. He ran like a rabbit to tell Voyeur One and Voyeur two.
I hope he didn’t tell them my street name or hell, they will all be potentially stalking me. So I merrily kicked out my leg mid-dance and pressed my hands together and yelled out “gossip…gossip..gossip”. Voyeur number two who rarely takes his Beatnik eyeballs off me, started laughing along with me. Well it is kinda ridiculous but oh well…we had fun.
Another man kept trying to dance with me but he grabbed me on my arse so I yelled “get your hands off my arse”. I was quite annoyed. He was a tad overly keen. Kept bouncing over to me.
First he suggested we go out together. I ignored it. I hadn’t even had a conversation with him. Then he bounced over again to insist we call each other (but forgot to ask for my number lol) then a third time to ask me if we were going to have a fight?
I said “what about?” He asked me if I was into girls and boys? I said “what are you suggesting? That I am a paedophile?” Then he said “no what do you prefer?”
I said “if you are asking about my sexual proclivities then I am asexual!” That got rid of him for a while.
The hilarious thing was after I yelled at him for grabbing my arse he said he would keep his arms behind him and “no sex!” I replied “damn straight…no sex…you can dance the Irish River Dance which was very likely invented by Irish women!” Then I burst out laughing.
His name was Sean and he was quite mad and besotted. Ultimately his friend finally got him to go home but oddly he came up to me a fourth time to say “Bye” and tell me that he’ll be back in three months.
I looked at Jo. She had a “suitor” named Tony who used to expect her to wait to see him once every two years. We both burst out laughing when I said we had another Tony on our hands. I said “Jo, that man has had an entire fantasy relationship with me on the dance floor, including an imaginary fight and breakup”. It’s enough to give me a breakdown… all the bollocks.
But Steve from Holland Park seems to be a decent man albeit a bit antagonistic and gunshy and wary. I kept an interested eye on him and caught him looking back at me, then glanced over to the Voyeur station and was a tad bemused that Voyeur Two was watching me, watching Steve.
Hmmm…they probably have bets on which one of them will win my hardarsed carapace heart.
I will have to keep doing what I always do. Dance myself almost to death and be cool and circumspect with the latest offerings of romantic attention.
…
I slept until 1:30 pm. Wow. I sat outside with Charley and Beauregard for a while then took them for walk around 3:30 pm. It was lovely. I stopped and chatted to Avril for a while. I haven’t seen her for a while.
Continuing our walk some young man in his late 20s with a scooter who frankly looked like he was casing houses called out, “Blue”. “Excuse me? “I asked.
“Is your bird called Blue?”
He had a warm friendly demeanour so I replied “No, her name is Charley and Blue is the blue heeler down the raid!” He grinned at me. Nice enough fellow. I kept walking home, with my own rascals.
17 June 2022
So Miss Five who has regressed by eating a chocolate sundae and drinking a chocolate thick shake gets inspired to show Beauregard, the dog on this cartoon “The Magic Roundabout”. So a modern version comes up on Google and Miss Five goes insane saying “thats not the one, it’s cute and all but that is not the cartoon from my childhood!”
So I stamp my feet and keep googling!
Then I play this video and start laughing at my spirit helpers again! The cow believes she’s a bus named number 12. I laugh myself silly as on the way to the skin doctor to get my overly large cyst sliced out I saw a bus that had “Hack” signs in its side.
I laughed myself almost to death. Now I am watching a video about a cow that thinks she’s a bus.
Weird…innit?! I said in yesterday’s video I would be paying attention to the synchronicities. My angels keep me amused while I suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous mindbending agonies and misfortunes.
But we are on the bus to Healing and/or that road to nowhere so I don’t care! It’s hilarious!
17 June 2020
Today I painted the wrought iron cot bedhead in red oxide paint. I have to paint the back of it. So that can be done tomorrow. Then I need to buy gold paint to finish it. It’s coming up nice.

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11:11 pm. Live, love, laugh
17 June 2019
@ Laundromat washing two doonas because cats are evil. Penny vomited all over my expensive down doona early Saturday morning (I rolled over in it when I got into bed at 3:30 am after my night dancing). Ugh! Not cool!
The other doona has been in the boot of my car for weeks after another mishap on the part of Socks. So today is the day I seized the opportunity to have nice clean doonas to put back on my beds.
With all my menopausal schvitzing my one was getting a rather unholy Stench of impending old lady death.
So perhaps it is good it got spewed on so I had to wash the thing. I usually do it at the end of summer but had put it off for some inexplicable grotty reason.
Also I have been extremely fatigued the rest of the weekend. I feel like death warmed up and vomited back out.
But it’s a beautiful day today and I will move through it as best as I can and will have the sublime treat of climbing back into a clean bed tonight. Woot!
17 June 2018
Crystal brought me home a lovely point of lay black hen as a present for lending her the car. I am rapt as Becky hen was rather lonely and not laying eggs as she was too old now. So it is lovely to have a new lady about the garden.
I will take a photo of her tomorrow.
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I am without my car today. (Until 4 pm)! So if you want to see me, come and get me. Lol!
17 June 2017
My right foot is swollen and tender. I stepped on a piece of wire yesterday but it seemed fine. Then danced in high heeled boots all night.
I am walking Beauregard and Charlie in the forest, very slowly as my foot hurts. Hopefully it is just a sprained tendon from dancing and not Septic Arthritis like I had in May 2012. I dread another bout in hospital on IV antibiotics which hurt worse than the initial infection.
I had a fantastic time last night but the injuries are annoying. I got suspicious when the Epsom Salt bath failed to take the sting out of my joints.
I wanted to check out the Northey St Winter Solstice festival and maybe go dancing again with Karen tonight but if the foot gets worse that will not be happening.
17 June 2016
1.16 am. Just got out of the shower. My skin was crawling, hair and scalp itchy. I couldn't sleep from burping. The Nizac isn't helping either.
So I have taken 50 mgs Seroquel as my mind is racing but my body is exhausted and it just won't stop. The trauma, the flashbacks, the general Bullshit.
So here I am wet, cold but clean. Revived like a dessiccated hibiscus flower dropped into champagne.
It is cold outside but clear and crisp. My lungs threaten to pack it in again. Skirting around another major bout of bronchitis. But this time I know it is from the trauma and shock of being alerted to the death of lovers past, by his own spirit.
I mean, far out! I begged him to release me 18 years ago but between grit teeth he lied. Then married his little sociopath bride and spawned 3 more children.
Clearly he did not really detach his energy from me. I guess he is up there partying with Gisela and Buck laying bets on how long it will be before I give up on my absolute travesty of a life and join them in their small corner of Hell.
True Love, MAN. Ain't nobody got time for that shit. Not the love they gave me. False glittery reptilian eyes and fake smiles and sublime lies.
Fuck them. Fuck them all. But how did I get to be the chosen one, the lucky one to be cursed with that befoulment? How long must I leap over the remains of the tsunami waves and keep swimming, barely holding my head up. Not waving but drowning.
Sylvia Plath. Another trauma survivor. Makes us wild and passionate but so fragile. So brittle. But each time some malevolent bastard shatters our psyche and body and heart we create a new mosaic from the broken shards and dreams and ever-encroaching angst, the sturm and drang and the banshee wailing of fellow heroes.
I am so tired. So tired. But I get up again. On my treadmill to nowhere, running, discovering new truths and old. Trying eternally to make sense out of nonsense. Trying to stay safe and sane.
Well here I am. Whom I am Becoming. Whom I always was. At my core, still pure and childlike. They tried to taint me with their lies, abuses and betrayals. But I laughed in the face of their evil. They mocked my laugh, time and again.
But I have kept my promise: she who laughs last, laughs best and longest. Enjoy your transition, David. You were never in my league. Like cures like you said, inflicting me with your remedies, but you colluded with all my enemies so you got the Cure, Baby. Acid wash. And the karma to boot.
So I am free. Sick, sick at heart and sick of soul and sick to my stomach but when I join you, I will be clean and clear. No nasty little grabby gremlins. No soul-sucking vampyres banging down my door. I would never have invited you in. Your time with me is done. Now greet the Sun, Sunshine.

Update 2022: It was Stevie Smith that quoted “Not waving but drowning” but I resonate deeply with Sylvia Plath for obvious reasons. Only I survived my life thus far. Miraculously.
It also just occurred to me that that vile ex lover was such a fucking narcissist that he needed to demand my attention and force me to grieve for him 16 years after his betrayal of me, by haunting my front door. Disgusting! But a tad funny!
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2.10 pm finally awake! Well that was scary.
Last night as I was shattered with exhaustion I took 50 mgs Seroquel. I hadn't needed any for over a week except for a smaller dose of 25 mgs a few days ago. I was feeling good about weaning off both my psych meds.
But within 10 minutes of Taking it (I sleep naked) I had such hot and cold chills that it felt like I had pneumonia. I was thrashing my legs in and out of the doona, hurling Penny and Sophie in several directions. Penny kept jumping off my bed then leaping back up in a state of confusion.
I was having trouble breathing. Well I was breathing but it felt like I was hyperventilating one minute then not breathing the next (a kind of psychosis?). So I tried to calm myself with deep breathing exercises.
Then I felt that I had to get up and run. So I ran into the bathroom on the ice-cold tiles and it was so cold in there and I realised I was having a panic attack. I tried to see the funny side of it. Me jogging on the spot for 20 seconds.
This is ridiculous I told myself. Psychedelic Dreamer simply does Not Jog. Davidson you prick, you aren't taking me down with you!
So I ran back into my bedroom and threw on my skirt and t-shirt I wore yesterday plus a lacy jumper. I ran into the kitchen to boil the jug for tea. But I did not make the tea. I ran back into the bedroom.
For the first time in my life I contemplated calling an ambulance. It felt like I was dying. I talked myself down. There is nothing they can do. This is just a panic attack. It will pass.
So I climbed back into bed, my feet hanging out the blankets and snuggled in the doona. Too hot, too hot my body screamed. Shut up we got you, my mind quelled (or rather queeved?) Sophie rubbed her face against my hand, wanting snuggles. Suddenly I was grounded again. I fell asleep. Sweet oblivion. I woke up at 2 pm.
My legs and feet still ache and but my nose is no longer running, even though my sinuses are still a tiny bit congested. My mind is clear.
Another day to enjoy. Albeit only the afternoon is allotted to me.
My brave Valhallean sisters took me for the ride but forgot to take my body as well. Very funny, Chicky Babes! (What is Ancient Norse for "you suck"). They almost bought me the farm but forgot the chocolate fish!
No rest or peace for the Fast and Furious. We got 'smiting' of the Wicked to live long enough to bear witness to. Lmao!
I humbly beg you, G-D and the Angels, please do your own dirty work. I am not your assassin of Death and Retribution, I just call out the bullshit, spotlight it and stand by to witness my final redemption from my life of suffering.
If I actually killed my tormentors I would be in prison and Nobody is ever going to steal my freedom that way. That is all I have left to value in my life. Freedom.
Everything else including Love has left me wretched and flogged on the threshing floor of my life. Even Love has been more of a curse than a blessing.
I have loved with such immense intensity that I have been rejected and abandoned time out of my mind, even by my own blood. Even by one I manufactured in my own body.
For no good reason other than I was victimised by my lovers and family. For no good reason other than they could. So I am not doing this life anymore. It has to change. For the better.
Put that in your roll-your-own cigarette, David Davidson and suck it. You could not fuck me up enough to completely annihilate me. Not you or the other hench-stench-but-never-a-mensch men and women.
Can we say!!!!? In-ade-quate!
Quite. Quit. Carpe Diem as I see fit.
Time to get out of bed and stand up and be counted.
Rock On, Sisters.
…
We are at the dog park. Beauregard is loving life and I am still Spiralling in my spiritual quest for wholeness. Physician, Heal Thyself. To thine own Self be true. Integrity is everything.
I just met a young woman who mentioned she too has a Narcopath Mother. Oh how I feel her pain. We hugged and comforted each other. Like me, she too does all she can to make sure her mother who is still living is safe and well. Unlike what they failed to give to us.
Survivors who still give and give and give our love and care to our own abusers, love pouring into leaky empty buckets deep down into the earth. Not all wasted or unseen, except by human eyes.
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Shabbat Shalom!
Thank you to Louise who messaged me that getting back on HRT probably tipped me over the edge. I had not realised how hard it can be.
I only started back on it 4 days ago so it totally makes sense that it might send my body into over-drive or adrenaline overload.
Lyn recommends I read about Adrenaline addiction. So I will do that too. Dancing both nights last weekend really exhausted me so I think I just need to go with the flow and not push my body so damn hard.
As Louise stated, I need to cherish myself. Good choice of words. Cherish!!
Love you my beautiful and clever friends who support and care about me. G-D Bless! xxx
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Orange is the New Black Season 4. Yesssssss!
17 June 2015
2.33 am. Feeling much happier. Soup blast must have helped. Now watching The Returned.
I have a debrief tomorrow with my awesome Doctor. So much to tell him and so little time.
Never mind, I like my 3 weekly reminders that I am not Crazy in spite of what the rest of the world thinks! ;-)
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Know Before Whom You Stand :-)
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I saw my psychiatrist today. Still awesome. He agrees the HRT would be contributing to the euphoria. We had an interesting discussion about science, technology and my belief (amongst a myriad of other things) in Aliens visiting Earth, not to invade us but to protect the planet.
I guess I am lucky that he hasn't committed me. He does have a good belief in the spiritual, as most medical staff do after years of dealing with dying patients. So we have these really deep conversations and learn a lot about the world from each other. It is really cool!
I also told him about the guy I adore. How he told me to fuck myself so I texted him back to go get Fellated in public again by the low-grade junkie behaviour, he is dating now.
My Doctor laughed and went red in the face. He said "See that is why he is so fascinated with you! Your sense of humour!" I said, "I dunno, Dr it's all getting too weird even by my standards." We left his office, howling with laughter.
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My favourite word as a child. Even my father loved it when I shrugged, curled a lip and said "Whatever". I had to have perfect comic timing though, or my mother would beat me within an inch of my life. (Still worth it though ;-)). One of the side effects of being raised by Fucking Idiots.
Their other favourite Song, and cliché: Que Sera Sera. Will I be pretty, will I be rich, what will be will be?
I will be alive in spite of those evil bastards.
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Metamorphisis. I keep hearing this over and over. I have been trashed and thrashed, whittled and ground, spat on and polished. To Become...what? Myself. More and more myself. More vibrant, more awesome, stronger, wiser and tolerant.
Late last year I went to Byron and while paddling, a tiny frog climbed up onto my ankle. That was the portent. I pray this new 'incarnation' is almost complete so I can grow in love, in life, and have all my hopes and dreams fulfilled. For my Highest Good and that of my Loved Ones. Amen!

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Pumpkin soup delicious and warming the bowels of my chest and mucus membranes. I know…TMI!
One massive bowl of soup and one massive sweat. Here we go!
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9.40 pm. I can't believe the time. The day has flown past today. I am snuggled in bed with Penny. Hopefully there will be sunshine tomorrow so I can get washing done and spend some time in the garden.
I made porridge for the hens at 6 am this morning. I put some honey and apple cider vinegar in it. They loved it! It has been so cold and damp for the poor birds.
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The soup made me sweat so much I had to have a shower. Now back in bed with Mushu (singing loudly) and Penny. Socks has buggared off. Didn't come home for dinner. Sophie outside too. She asked to go out around midnight.
I miss my chooks and garden. Been in bed for 3 weeks apart from weekends dancing and brief forays to get food. Hmmm! I will have a lot of work to do when I get well!
17 June 2014
Lying in bed with "the Black Hole of Love" aka Harvey. Happiness is a dog, even if he is a Love Monster.
17 June 2012
I had a fantastic night last night which was great as I'd gotten very depressed, missing Courtenay for no good reason! So Tina picked me up (she lives on the Gold Coast) and drove me to Greenbank RSL to attend the Kiss Tribute Band.
A very young man danced with me most of the night. I danced with Tina and her new Friend, Brian also. We all had a lovely time. Tina dropped me home at 2 am. Wow! How Awesome of her to do that for me!




17 June 2011



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Be afraid, be very afraid, this magnificent Bitch...beautiful intelligent talented charismatic and hot woman is back on Facebook on my Desktop computer, which means I can edit, comment and post on other profiles without resorting to my strange pigeon english prose on my mobile phone. It was getting very Man- chester! Aight?!
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Happy day! Lyn brought back computer. Peter fixed it for me. So awesome. then I went out with Jarrod to do some shopping and my heat pads arrived via ebay so I don't have to fret about my Bettas dying of cold. Yay! It was a bargain on ebay too.
17 June 2009
Tired but happy...actually Sunday was a freakishly happy day ...so happy it took me two days to recover. The good thing about spontaneous natural highs is you get to freak everyone out around you cos they are only used to seeing you depressed.
Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons
About the Creator
Tanya Arons
I write about my life experiences. I write about complex ptsd, the agonies, the angst and my post traumatic growth. About Beauty, Truth and Honour and little vignettes of comfort from the spirits that love me: living and dead. I also Dance!



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