Memories: 20 August 2025

20 August 2025

7:02 am In your face! Another grey miserable looking morning…Blech. Cold and bleak like the colour of zombie souls.

A good sleep result however. The Tanya has fought her way back from the brink…again. Don’t ask me how I do it?! It’s part willpower, part fury, part magick. Gifted by the gods who tweak my spirit and kick me up the tochas and hurl me back into the fray. It’s intense. It’s formidable. Sometimes it is strangely marvellous.

Former zombies need to dance. Breathe. Believe in themselves. Achieve. Love their lives so immensely that no piecemeal mealy-mouthed shallow callow motherfucker even DARES to blip on their radar.

I have a debrief today. That means going out into the cold and rain. Blech. I need to buy food anyway. Boring. I hate food shopping.

Well, another day in paradise. Up and at ‘em with my woolly obstreperous defiant lungs. Bless them. They keep me alive like a papier maché doll. Just barely alive…it’s a tricksters’ game. Breathe in, breathe out. Rinse and repeat. Keep going until I die for real eventually.

Haha the gods tell me I will never die…it’s not over yet…not by a longggg shot. There is so much more they want me to experience, delight in, trust in, unfurl, twirl, divine and incorporate into my worldview.

“Hey, what happened to tying up loose ends like you adjured me back in 25 June 2019?”

“We said that to scare you into fighting for Life with everything you had, Baby Girl. We knew what was coming and we wanted you here…to fight!”

“I’m done fighting for mere scraps of existence…. For love from loveless hateful souls. For my basic rights. For everything…including my very breath”.

Tanya….Tanya….we know. We are so proud of you. Your fierce determination to have at long last, your beautiful life. You’ve come a long way. Simultaneously slip sliding away. Glitching in and out of this fake matrix that the globalists created for you. You stood solid and true and frankly, my dear, in this current paradigm, that is a rare and precious gift.

It’s why your enemies fear you so very much. Your deep love for the gods. Your deep love for humanity (even though they consistently betrayed you!) You have held your own. With limited resources and only a wish and a prayer and your strength, and your preternatural courageous defiance.

If no mortal ever loves you…we the gods love you always. Right up to the very last breath and beyond. We’ve got you, Kid.

Now shine bright like a diamond. Keep your mind sharp, your heart open. Enjoy life in all its fractalised manifestations. Miracles are coming to you. Never quit, never cede, never yield. We’ve upgraded you. You can’t see it yet. But it’s here. Version 60.4

“By the gods….the holy one in all manifestations. I am grateful for another day. Another dreaming, another Becoming.”

…

I just had my debrief. That man protects me and values and validates me in his professional capacity. I am so so so grateful. Sometimes in life we stumble across genuine earth angels who are there for you no matter what…no matter who.

I have been in therapy with this doctor for almost 15 years (in October!) He is the only doctor who has stood by me through thick and through thin. One of very few men to actually comprehend who I am as a woman, as a spirit, and as his patient.

I don’t know where I would have been without his staunch support and determination to keep me alive. There were a few times over the last fifteen years that I almost didn’t make it but I am so glad I had his support. Quietly protecting me and advocating for me when needed.

He tells me I am not psychotic and I must stop gaslighting myself when my trauma gets re-activated. That I have been put through a lot and even so, I am holding my own and doing fine.

I now need to get over this asthmatic illness and regain focus and strength. He agreed it was wise of me to document everything and externalise the trauma rather than falling into victim mode. (As I have had a tendency to do when life got too weird or too vicious).

The Mama T is fighting fit. Mentally clear but I will always be eccentric and a bit fragile at times.

But I can see I am getting stronger and wiser. I am grateful for that too.

…

Funny story from earlier today. I go to my favourite pet shop to buy a few toys for the birdie boys. I also decided to buy another cage for outdoors as Beau needs a larger cage for outside in the warmer weather.

Anyhow I am standing with my back to the rest of the store but facing the bird room and I have several bird toys in my hands and I am trying to figure out which would be the best choice for my boys (all of them!) I hear a voice struggling over his words, almost guttural and deep, coming from behind me.

I turn around and grin because it’s the nice young man who has sold me the two other cages. He apologises and says “Sorry I couldn’t get the words out just then. How may I help you?”

Quick as a whip I reply “That’s all right Darling, it won’t be the first time I have taken a man’s breath away”. Then I giggle. Mind you, this young man is young enough to be my grandson: if my girls had ever had kids that is! I just see the funny side and Miriam Margolyse has inspired my inner muse this morning, I suppose.

Anyway the young man gets terribly excited and proceeds to tell me all about birds and their various personalities, about his pet funnel web spiders which all have vastly different personalities also. I found it all very fascinating.

Then, probably because I was wearing my handmade snake earrings, he brings me to the snake enclosures and tells me about their personalities and that he prefers their bites to the bird bites as it’s not as deep or painful.

The python named Sir David Attenborough raised his beautiful black head and smiled right at me, flicking his tiny forked tongue. I fell mildly in love, as baby pythons seem to have a way of mesmerising me.

I would never get a pet snake though as they grow large and I’d hate having to feed them dead rats and mice. But I felt such waves of recognition and love from that little python that I glowed with happiness.

Then Josh gets a rather large praying mantis out of its cage and rests it on his hand and tells me they make great pets for children but they only live for one year.

Honestly he was so sweet and attentive and enthusiastic I decided to buy the outside cage then and there, rather than put it off.

I’ve just finished putting it together, which was rather fraught. But it’s raining so I don’t want to put it outside yet. I will need a tarpaulin to keep it dry or it will rust. Gahhhh!

But I am happy that Beau has a much larger cage so all his needs are met. It will be lovely for him having room to move and fly around inside his “outside” cage.

I gave him his new hammock-type swing made out of wood and coco fibre and he was terrified of it. So I will see how he adjusts to it tomorrow and if still not his cup of tea, I will give it to Kermie. (I intended it for Kermie originally anyway, but wanted to see what Beau did with it).

Later during my debrief with my worthy wonderful psychiatrist he says to me “you know what the original meaning of “Witch” was, Tanya?” I said “No, tell me” He looks at me and smiles and says “Wise woman. It’s why the patriarchy tried to kill so many Witches as they truly feared female power!” I nodded. “They still do” I replied. “Nothing much has changed in the broad scheme of things. It’s just more subversive now”. “You’re a warrior, Tanya” he replied. I nod “I know…right!”

I forgot to tell him about my encounter with the lovely pet shop boy! He would have died laughing and told me off for “flirting” but honestly it was just damn cute and funny!

I then went to Garden City and had my favourite curry lunch. Then I bought a few groceries at Woolies. People were all very kind and sweet today. I felt very seen and supported! Just lovely!

20 August 2024

https://youtu.be/PnMzwMXIa3I “Readings 20 August 2024”

Intensely emotional day and night on the back of the blue moon. Long video…lots of trauma processing. Laughter at funnier anecdotes. I was utterly exhausted by 9 pm so went to sleep.

20 August 2023

Lol I dreamed this morning of my home being attacked by a drone. Then I woke up, switched on my iPhone and YouTube had directed me to a review of one of my videos stating they had removed it due to “medical misinformation”.

Then while responding with my comment that it is not misinformation but factual and the lived reality of thousands of people across the globe (excess deaths,ie SADS and adverse reactions!) my comment would not publish and my screen kept hiding the “next” button so I could not complete my review. I doubt this is not just an accidental glitch in their system.

I am aware that I have been deliberately targeted in recent weeks. Why? My addiction to Truth telling and speaking out on the various life threatening malfeasances of our time.

I am one person in a vast ocean of 8 billion people (in now ever diminishing numbers) and I am hated for my Truth. Guess what? It will stand beside me all the days of my life.

I have survived against all the odds a multitude of times and I will not be silenced. They can take down my videos (with a subscription 27 souls) hardly a threat to their world domination.

They can preclude me from my usual dance space at the Treasury. They can remove my stories, my wisdom and ultimately they can even kill me (gods knows they tried that many times!).

But my Truth will continue on the Ether for eternity and when my body is silenced permanently my Light will continue to Shine and I will hand the mantle of courage and decency to some other warrior god/dess.

…

My new fb bio:

The 5th generation psy-op war is amping up. Isolating, marginalising and silencing. Starving Truth!

…

…

Jarrod and I are visiting Maiala at Mt Glorious!

20 August 2022

I have been down to Supercheap to buy new wiper blades. The lovely young man installed them for me. I have been agonising over it for a week. But the left hand side one was shredded so it had to be done! Phew! Such a relief.

…

…

9:09 am I just woke up after a bad night of trauma dreams. It’s been four nights of this, although my sleep was only broken once the previous night. Lots of anxiety dreams about my mother’s stuff. It almost feels demonic as it’s been so persistent.

Last night’s dreams were about Aunty Lotte. I had somehow found some of her rambling incoherent letters (written in German) but addressed to me personally. I was struggling to glean any comprehension (as was the case in real life because my German is very basic and hers was so incongruent in later life).

She was telling me that she was sorry about all the treachery on my mother’s part and she had meant for me to have certain things but Gisela had withheld them out of spite. I actually woke up with a minor panic attack as that was true. She inferred she had wanted to leave me an inheritance but that got shelved somehow.

I don’t think that was true though. She had generously gifted us the most exquisite China, crystal and clothes and jewellery back in the 70s and 80s and even 90s (sending even dinner sets and gold cutlery and pots) so I don’t think she would have felt obliged to leave me any sort of inheritance on top of all that.

It bothered me so much that I was dreaming of her, stressing about imaginary inheritances that I put myself bac to sleep telling myself it was old trauma dreams and to relax!

But the dreams persisted throughout the night and grew very intense indeed. Plus I had to get up to pee four times and after the fourth time (near dawn) I felt utterly drained, dehydrated and had trouble shuffling to the loo and then to the kitchen for a drink of water.

So what the hell is happening to my poor old brain? I have been very busy the past four days making things: the revamped suncatcher from the chandelier, then sanding back and varnishing the cutlery canteen that I worked on 9 months ago but was still not happy with.

Then yesterday although I was tired from all my efforts I drilled holes in two pairs of dogs and cats to make more earrings then made sterling silver shepherds hooks and put them together. They are a lot of work.

The weather has been really sunny, mild and beautiful the last four days. So I have no reason to be having such disturbed sleep! (Other than my lungs are not travelling too well).

I will be paying careful attention to what feels like a precursor warning or a spiritual shift. Something doesn’t smell right in the “State of Denmark” or rather, Queensland again. So evil is afoot.

Hopefully it’s just my lungs and bladder gifting me these old feelings of malaise and impending disaster.

At any rate, I am moving through each day in a state of grace with a kind of anticipatory excitement as the weather is warming up and spring is nigh. I am manifesting creative outlets and praying for miracles.

For a life of comfort and ease, freedom, true loves, loyal friendships, a community that vibes with me and treats me with genuine care and respect and better health, joy in my crazy little Sacred Space garden with the eternal summer lands ever enticing me to join them in playfulness and childlike wonder.

Yesterday I went with Charley girl to my front gate and rang all the bells I have hanging over there. We did a little hopping dance, my exhorting the creeping malevolence that no psychic vampires, no creepy befouled men (or women!), no evil may cross my gate threshold. I was just being silly and Fae of course, but I mean business!

It’s time to elevate the vibrations and let no poverty inducing, trauma activating “shit” invade my home: psychic, mental and physical.

I am only two months recovered from the last death spiral and I can’t keep circling that drain. I am slowly rebuilding my strength and my Joie de Vivre and my powerful intrepid life force again.

And time is ever more precious as I know it is seeping out of me. Ageing, alone…in an actual fucking Apocalypse. Weird!

But I have fought my way through worse paradigms…with two young children and even less resources. So I can keep doing this. Growing stronger and more gutsy each day.

There will be joy, dancing and love again.

The ghosts of Gisela and Lotte can just settle down. I don’t belong to them. I don’t belong to anyone but God and my own Self.

Life…will be abundant and juicy and joyful. Even if it’s only in the moment! Illusory but triumphant when it visits.

I just had another thought: it’s almost the 7th anniversary of my suicide attempt. Tomorrow! Also it’s Auntie Lotte’s birthday on 6 September and that day is usually fortunate for me in some way. So it’s no accident that I am dreaming of her, trying to communicate with me. Lol. Maybe she is watching over me, wishing me only the best as she used to do before my mother poisoned the chalice.

C’est la vie! The TanyaKind (Tanya Child) lives on and will regain her equilibrium. I am loved and cherished, if only by the spirits. So there is that!

A lot has changed in the past 7 years. The entire world burned down in flames…and I rode through it with a fierce determination to not buy into the evil perverted bullshit narrative. There is a strange gift that arises out of common sense and courage.

Unfuckwithability! You have to laugh. It’s rather a strange gift. But I earned it after decades of immense cumulative trauma. So I honour it. It was a mantle that settles around my shoulders like gossamer faery wings but fuck with it: it quickly transmogrified into Titanium.

Aunty Lotte. Go tell Gisela that the pox on both houses is dissipating and my curses are, apropo of nothing…quite fulfilled and now must be unravelled into the Void. Like string theory…entanglement…spooky action at a distance. Lmao. Move along feckless cruel motherfuckers…

Let go…let God. Time for sunshine and happiness again.

…

20 August 2021

20 August 2020

12:37 am. I had a lovely day yesterday with Lyn. We sat in my Sacred Space garden. Chatted. Lyn spoiled me with Swiss cheese, crackers, Oreos, and a big juicy bone for Beauregard. (He was thrilled!!!)

We went to Stones Corner for a coffee. Then back to my place. I felt very much loved and comforted by my soul sister.

Thanks Lyn. Thank you for your strong nurturing support for the past 32 years. I love you!

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1:11 am. Hold your head high. Keep eye on the sky. One foot on the ground. Pirouette, and jettison the crap.

Stay sane in your membrane. Love your life: every single millisecond of it. Create Art. Muse. Enchant. Grow. Glow. Flow.

They tried to dam(n) you but you kept going forward while your enemies still sleep in the crust. Musty. Fusty! Dusty!

Lol! Joie de Vivre is a state of mind and a distant prize for those left behind.

Up on your feet, Zombiessss...The Tanya has Spoken!

…

I went there when Crystal was only three months old.

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20 August 2019

Truth/Emet!

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8 weeks post-op. Still very weak at times, still fatigued. But my will is strong. Loving my life in spite of its epic weirdness.

Since I had the operation I feel like I hit the ground running. I was so close to dying. Then so weak after my epic fight at the hospital. Then had to have an echocardiogram and holter meter as I feared my heart was damaged.

No. Only broken...but The Tanya has duct-taped it back together and is valiantly soldiering on...dancing on. Loving on...

Another surgery due on 24 Sept. Then I will have a rest for a while. I am gonna put the repeat colonoscopy on hold but go ahead with the endoscopy. Try to heal my reflux issue. Although it has improved slightly in recent weeks. It was extremely bad when I first came home from the hospital. Probably a reaction to the anaesthetic or intubation.

I have hated being trapped in a weak fragile body, licking eyeballs with Lady Death. But She has stepped back from me. No longer dogging my every step and clutching at my every breath. Goodbye old friend... we will tango again some day. She nods serenely from the curtain. “You go, Girl! You have fought valiantly again!” I curtsey.

Well my loves...this next chapter of my life better be really good. Looking forward to more awesomeness!

Truth, Beauty, Vitality, Peace, Happiness, True Love, Abundance and a picture of Me :-)

…

I am flowing with love and feeling more peaceful today. I had a lovely day with Jarrod yesterday who patiently and lovingly supported me emotionally (as did my beautiful Lyn!) You are both my greatest blessings on Earth as you have loved me platonically and unconditionally and steadfastly through so much heartache and turmoil.

The greatest most devoted friends and adopted family. I am fully flourishing and Alive in this glitching bitching hologram of a life because of you. Julie Goddard too. My God, you are such miracles for me.

Thank you!

Any man who willfully attempts to harm me or hurt me looks like a tiny speck of Dreck compared to my incredibly strong loving friends. But I loved the cruddy emotionally constipated One too.

For everything and everyone has purpose and meaning and is connected to the universe. Just some choose to live in Machiavellian perverse darkness and can not withstand my light or my bold determination to Love and heal myself.

The tragedy and the comedy, the swirling darkness blended into my fiery fierce Light like yin and yang, reaching into infinity to merge into the zero point of energy from where all existence springs.

He fears that zero point. It bodes immolation for him. But is in fact the Creation and Rebirthing and so much Bliss.

I have ridden his energy like the Mustang Kwe I am. I have felt him…his intent to “stalk” me that I mistook for anxiety. I have to trust my intuition more, and stop labelling it with psychiatric labels.

That broiling anxiety I could not understand that hit me out of nowhere soon dissipated when confronted with the former lover. A penny drop. A penny for my thoughts and a kiss into the Void of a game playing Avoidant.

“You can just kiss off into the air

Behind my back I see them stare.

They hurt me bad...they do it all The time”

https://youtu.be/P37kKpPR9Lk

Violent femmes. Hahaha!

My subconscious streaming consciousness is comical. Love her!

I am okay. I will keep loving him until the day or moment comes when there is no more love inside me. But I waited a longgg time to lose that love. So perhaps it will never happen. Perhaps I will keep loving anyway.

Love is the magic and the eternal combustion engine of the universes. What is meant for me, exclusively, preciously, graciously, nobly, beautifully, blissfully...for me? Will come. I can sense it. In the next incarnation perhaps, or if I am worthy that Love I desired will be merged with the Ein Sof Aur and I will be welcomed Home at last.

I must live well and wisely and follow my Bliss.

…

1:11pm greetings from the alternate universes. Where Angels have my back :-)

…

Funny and of course True story!

So this morning I forgot to put my Otto bin out for the garbage collection. Sometimes I don’t even care but I had two eggs in it that had been boiled to extinction yesterday so I worried they would ferment in the Australian heat if left in the bin another week!

So I hear the grinding tones of the garbage truck backing up Topaz street which is usually enough time for me to race out to put the bin out on my side, on Diamond Street. So I bolt out the back door, running Hell for leather to beat the driver and his cumbersome truck.

He sees me running alongside him on my property, running as fast as my short fat 54 year old Hobbit legs will allow given the terrain of my place is hilly with the obstacle course of the hammock stand and my pots and the chook even getting in my path.

But Psychedelic Dreamer/The Tanya/laicadaisical freak of Nature Rannnnn.

(I almost never run, it is un-fucking-dignified...but rotten eggs is worse!)

So he sees me, pulling alongside me then planted his foot. He flies down Diamond Street with a serene smile on his fucking Aussie Larrikin face.

I stop just shy of my bin. (I had fought my way through the front gate!)

I stomp a little infuriated Hobbit Rumplestiltskin Stomp. It looked like my tribal warrior dance I do occasionally that I have done since I was 4 or 5 years old. Arms flailing, legs stamping, blood in my eye.

I yelled out “Fffffuckkkk You” and gave him the friendly gesture of the furiously Damned with Both Fickle Feckless fingers. He kept speeding down the road like a crazed Motherfucker.

I burst out laughing. Fuck I thought. Eggs in bins can broil some more, attract maggots and poison my snobby cuntish neighbours’ Zen. Fuck! Why the Fuck should I care?! Some things are just Kismet!

I limped back inside. Fuming but amused. Game playing twats everywhere.

Then I realised “Shit! He didn’t empty any bins in my street” they are gonna hate me....

So an hour and half goes by and he goes racing past again. Hahaha The sweet little psychopath had cared about my feelings and my stinking bin and my fury after all!!!

He came back, had Re-Routed like a fucking Champion. Nice fella after all.

I revoke my Hobbit stomping curses. (I was not that serious anyway, just a moment of impish fury at the “Game” Of Decay).

Come out to play next week Mate. My bin will be ready for you. Maybe....

He loves his job today. I love my life today. Win/win situation! :-)

…

2 hours and 12 minutes to get through to a human on the Centrelink phone line. Arrrghhhhh!!!! Problem fixed with bill smoothing. It took 2 minutes.

Tomorrow a house inspection from Housing. That won’t take long. If they show up. Sometimes they forget.

I can hear The Whitman’s “blow up the pokies” as this government is so incompetent. Jesus!

…

Trigger warning and long long story.

>

>

So I sat between a nice couple at the drumming circle on Sunday. Which was a comfort and a blessing as my ex arrived later and had the chutzpah to sit close by me. The universe offering me the protection of a circle and the strange cameraderie with strangers.

The man who sat on my left was suffering from the usual new age existential cosmic angst. His first comment to me which was a truth but an unusual conversation opener was “We are like parasites on the earth, destroying everything!” I was a bit startled but addicted to Truth as I am, I concurred.

“Yes, we are like veritable vermin, consuming everything and giving nothing back”. He had offered me a chair but I told him I was happy to sit in circle on the earth as it strengthens and nurtures me. (Although getting up at the end is always painful lmao!)

So we carried on with the drumming and my dancing and absorbing energies from Gaia and the beat of the earth, my heart, my blood in my veins thrumming with the beat of the drums.

Thirty minutes in...my former lover arrives to sit, slightly behind me with a woman. I was shocked at first then thought to myself, he must be extremely bonded to me to choose to sit so close to me and really? He needs companions to embolden him whereas I always arrive at events Alone and Leave Alone so really, his cowardice is noted.

So I shrugged it off and when my nervous system quelled (I love that fool of a man that much!) I turned and eyegazed them both in a silent way of acknowledging their fucked up ignoble Game! No malevolence, just holding my own sacred space, my courage, my light and my honour.

Then I turned to face the front again, and fussed with my limitlessly loyal loving dog, who also had stared at him with what looked like doggy disdain as he sensed my distress.

Anyway I almost had to laugh. I was very handsomely protected. By the spirits, my dog and my own heart.

Anyway, interestingly the man next to me randomly turns to me and said “Why don’t you Primal Scream?” Delivered with a kind of almost misogynistic vehemence. The poor guy had picked up on my distress that I had thought I had managed so gloriously. I looked at him with a measure of awe and circumspection. Fuck, I thought! I am that transparent and fucking Vulnerable. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

For I have Primal screamed to heal myself back in the day. After my divorce which was evil and sadistic and vicious. I had sacked three corrupt bastard lawyers and eventually did a free Divorce through the Family Court but of course, nothing is ever truly Free, as it was a guise for the courts and the government to take advantage of vulnerable women and our children and fucking rob us of everything which brought me to the brink of suicide. But instead I saw it as an opportunity to heal my spirit-body and mind which had been violated since early childhood.

I told my children to not be afraid but Mummy was going to go into her room and scream now. I screamed into a pillow but it echoed through the skylight. I screamed for 4 hours. Spit and snot and sweat, my hair lathered, my body deflated. I screamed and screamed and screamed. It was terrifying but cathartic.

At one point I felt the release like an orgasm in my energy field. But I screamed even more. I screamed until I fainted with exhaustion then passed out.

And yes. It was not cool that my children were around to hear it. It probably aided in damaging them but that was not my intent. My intent was to decompress from three decades of stress as I was determined to stay alive long enough to see my children become adults and know I had done right by them.

I had never been truly loved or protected. Not then, not now (except by my platonic friends who saved me) but in those darkest of times I was completely isolated. I had no support structures. I had lost everything.

There had been constant threats to take my children and I fought the messenger that rang me from the Family Court demanding I give my newly estranged mother access rights to my children.

I said “I will kill myself before I ever let my children stay overnight with that woman and her pedophile conman husband! My job on this earth is to protect my children from being molested and/or raped in a world of predatory men and their predatory systems! If I fail to do that much, then I cannot live with myself. Have you no shame?!”

I got lucky that day. The person went very quiet. Then said “Ms Arons, you will not be hearing from us again. I will make a note on your file!” I had told them my evil mother could access her grandchildren via my ex husband so I was not unreasonable. I just did not want them vulnerable to her and her filthy henchmen.

Anyway, I surfed these putrid memories in a few microseconds, then replied with my characteristic laissez faire tumescent humour to the man who thought all humanity are parasitical vermin (most of us are, dear ones, but I recognise Major Depression when I see it 🙂 )

“Darling, I only scream during sex!” Mic drop. Badam tish!

His partner on my right said “Whattttt?!” My ex casual bonkmeister and his new flame were listening avidly. I could almost feel their earlobes flapping in the breeze. Weirdoes!

He knows that was a little white lie but comedy is how I cope and sex is well, an enjoyable body function when you can get it with someone that actually enjoys your presence and effort...ahem.

So knowing my glib comment had rattled their feathers and knowing that when sitting beside button-pushing Machiavellian fucking soul-ridden Trickster spirits “my spirit people see through your spirit people!” You simply have to own your own shit...and integrity.

So I looked my new acquaintance in the eye. “Mate, I have no desire to scream anymore. I have screamed enough in my life. If you are ever on the receiving end of my screaming...know this! You will have done something completely fucking awful and I will be calling you out!” He shuddered slightly, but smiled. I felt my ex behind me wither. Take that, motherfucker!

I relaxed back into the earth which held me graciously! Good woman! Tanya! Never let the bastards grind you down. They have no comprehension whom they are toying with when they tweak your Spirit.

Bobo, the Dear One, with thousands of years of ancestral Wolf in him, climbed up on my lap, two paws on my right shoulder and pressed his cheek against mine. Glaring at he-who-was-lucky-to-ever-have-had-my-love-but-devalued-it. The nice woman next to me said “aww he is adorable!” I agreed “yes my dog really loves me and it is very ennobling!”

No human can comprehend my spirit or value it, for it is beyond time and space and a magic not meant for everyone.

It is beautiful and eternal and no man, woman or child or animal ever forgets it. Some still “Stalk” it as they have not yet discovered their own light, strength and inner God/dess.

So I am happy. I have no money/or homes/ or business or career or loving sexual partnership but I have Me back and a few blessèd friends and my animals and the Earth and the cosmos we float in and maybe the day is coming when we reclaim our harmonic resonance on this planet and stop fucking everything up and stop fucking each other.

When we start honouring our Selves and each other in a way that does not make us sad or broken or dead inside but enriches us in ways of the heart and mind.

When orgasms are reclaimed for peak spiritual and physical procreation, formed by joyous love-making in shared sacred space, not empty violent ejaculations of hate, envy and spite. When life is full and kind and resplendent. When I am free of all the callow bullshit and I am surrounded by the greatest love, in safety, harmony and perpetuity.

Magic...Happens. Be the Love and the Magic that mere mortals denied you. Shine by example. Flow with Life or be vomited up and purged by it.

Psychedelic Dreamer Dreams and has Spoken and screamed and streamed enough. Just for today. Happiness.

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20 August 2018

Feeling very weak today. But happy. Relieved that the plumbing is fixed. Beautiful blue skies. I lay out in my hammock and exposed my belly and legs to the sun. (Trying to get some natural Vitamin D before the doctor prescribes me some high doses. Probably have only manifested a sunburn or more melanomas but everything in harmony, babies).

I was thinking deeply about my nephew’s intention to migrate to The Gold Coast. I worry about the repetition of family history and karma. His father (who was a monstrous pig to me) is about have a hip replacement and now one of his sons is emigrating. Hmmm.

I cannot rejoice in how this karma is playing out as my ex husband and I migrated here in 1988 (a few months after my mother in law had a breast removed) and 9 days after we arrived here in Brisbane she died of a heart attack. Possibly the grief of losing her youngest son was too much for her? Or just bad timing?

But I was made to suffer for the choice to come here for months and years later and I do not wish that on my nephew or his family.

Life can be cruel. People even crueller. Poor health dogs us all at some stage of our life. In my case, most of my life. I felt very vulnerable the whole time my daughter was in the UK but I was kept nourished/nurtured/cherished by good solid strong friends who buoyed me up in the darkest of days and nights. I know how it feels to be sick and broken and impoverished and then to “lose” one’s family. Over and over again.

So the temptation for schadenfreude at my former brother in law’s impending grief and loss is real and present but I find no joy in it.

Sometimes in life one has to accept that there are greater monsters both Seen and Unseen that attract misfortune, illness, negativity, disharmony, and we must learn to rise above it. Otherwise the misery and pain and afflictions of the past will continue to cycle back to us like a very bad dream or a bad case of gastritis.

The waters of redemption shall smooth down the stones of my heart and my bitterness, my griefs and my abandonments, my sense of betrayals by callow men and false lovers. By poisonous former family, even at times, by G-d him/herself.

I have Become. Another person. Another life. Stronger, weirder, but more determined and more loving of Self.

The Rolling Stones inside my guts and my enlarged liver were created by gall and grit and tears and a fierce warrior’s power to survive and now they must be transmuted into peace and love and joy and limitless abundance: the stars, the sea, the air and everything in between.

So mote it be.

…

20 August 2017

That light came and went but oh my, it kept me in illusory joy for long after he departed from me. Never forgotten. The psychedelic dreamer's Dream.

I wish he had not played me false like so many others. But the feeling remains as strong as ever. A blessing and a curse. I am slowly healing and letting go of that love. Torture.

…

Wow! Lying on my bed facebooking and Bobo goes nuts. Barking and scratching at back door screen. I ignored it for a minute but he got increasingly frantic. So I get out of bed and let him out to see what the trouble was.

I had left Charlie outside on top of his cage with the door open so he could go back inside, if needed.

But a crow was hanging around and for a moment Charlie was nowhere to be seen. My heart in my mouth, thinking the crows had killed him, I saw Bobo run, barking frantically.

Charlie had gone walkabout and was sitting next to the potting table, 5 or 6 metres away from where I keep his outdoor cage. I grab Charlie, kiss him with relief and happiness and put him back in his cage. Bobo chases away the crow! Then continues to bark excitedly at Charlie to let him know he had his back!

How the dog knew what was going on outside (he had been in the bedroom with me) I will never know but I am just amazed at how awesome and protective of our rainbow lorikeet he is. (They playfight often. Charlie actually bites him!). But when push comes to shove Beauregard protects his little feathery mate from the crows.

Stone the crows, Mate but that is awesome.

…

…

Watching The Giver. Lovely movie.

I had a lovely gift last night from one of the women at the casino. She came to tell me that although I was looking nice last night, she thought that on Friday night I looked beautiful. She loved the outfit I had on.

It was a fairly new dark pink wrap-over skirt I bought for $15, and teamed up with my underbust and a plunging neckline top. I felt a bit bemused. The outfit is lovely but that is not why I felt beautiful. However it was lovely to be Seen and complimented.

I told her I had admired her sexy red skirt, also the way she moves on the dance floor with her partner, both fantastic dancers, wild, passionate and free. She giggled and said she rarely ever wears red. I concurred that it looked great on her. Confidence is contagious.

Later when I was embroiled in my dispute with security about the assault I had eyewitnessed, she came up to me to see if I was ok. I said "yes, things are being dealt with". Again I was touched by her genuine friendship.

Also I had looked up to see both Herb and Len standing in front of me, looking concerned. Herb and I had been hamming it up most of the night. Len is also very gentle and protective in an unassuming way. Both lovely men!

So as much as that casino is a toxic, superficial, draining and too often, unsafe environment I was shown who the good kind genuine people are.

I am grateful to know there are good people out in the world. Always look for the good people. Be one, be Seen and Heard by them. We are not alone in our struggles.

…

Tonight I asked security to protect a PNG woman who had been grabbed by the throat and pulled backwards while dancing, by the same white man who had stood inappropriately close to me. I have been harassed by him in the past.

The Security guard was not looking in my direction so saw nothing. I went up to him and told him the attacker had to go. No one came to the dance floor.

After 10 minutes the security guard came up to me and tried to tell me the couple knew each other and she was ok with the hijinks. This was proven to be a lie, in that she walked past him as he interviewed me and stated she thought the guy was my husband. She did not want to lay a complaint.

I stated I had a problem with the level of harassment and attacks that are happening on the dance floor. Security Guy said I was getting emotional. I said "Not at all, but if I am not safe here, I won't be coming here anymore."

I demanded to speak to the Security Manager. They bring down a Supervisor. I said "Not good enough. I demand to speak to the manager". So they walk me downstairs to await a manager.

He comes out and calls me "Miss". I told him it was dehumanising and delegitimising to call a woman over 40, Miss and told him that I was sick of ongoing harassment and it is rare for me to even approach a security guard and ask for assistance, as historically nothing has been done or I have been vilified for it.

I told him that I was sniggered at on Friday night by a guard who was encouraging one of my female stalkers. The same dickhead that got me banned from Irish Murphies for asking for protection, several years ago.

I stated that the man needs a job so I said nothing when the casino hired him but now he thinks it's ok to harass me? I said I am sick of the bullshit and the escalation of violence.

The security manager lied to my face about tonight's incident and said the couple knew each other. I said that is a blatant lie as she stated right in front of me that she thought the guy attacking her was my husband (ew!). He said nothing could be done as the couple said they knew each other and were ok.

I said "No, it's not ok. It will be on your cameras and you will see that I felt uncomfortable with that guy BEFORE HE GRABBED THE WOMAN BY THE THROAT and dragged her backwards."

I stated that he obviously had no idea that rape culture which is thriving on that dance floor means that most women don't report attacks as they are so accustomed to being delegitimised then want to carry on to keep Drinking. Mostly out of fear that they will not be heard, protected and supported!

Meanwhile the abuser is given permission to grab other women by the throat. I stated if he had grabbed me, there would have been violence and I would have been banned for defending myself.

But you know, he kept calling me Miss a few more times. I said "Obviously you don't know how to respect a mature age woman and you lie and cover up for your guards who turn a blind eye and/or do nothing when asked to assist."

I said "I have been coming here for 6 years. I personally have been harassed here (including last week and Friday night) but when I finally decide it is time to complain due to escalation, nothing is done!" He stated that they had done something and had warned both people about the aggressive dancing. (Another lie!)

You know what enrages me more than not being supported on a complaint about violence on the dance floor? The lies they concoct while you wait to see a Manager! They hope you are too stupid or too drunk to keep track of the events.

It is not safe there. If a woman dares follow through on the process to complain she is called "Miss" and lied to. Hmmmm. So you know. It is just horrible that I have no other venues to go to, as this happens right across the country.

I have to swallow my dignity and dance as fast as I can and fend off creeps and drunks by myself because, as a woman I am not supported. It is heartbreaking and sickening at the same time.

But you know. I am glad I stood up for that utterly stupid woman who should have backed me up for trying to protect her. She must like being strangled by random drunk creeps.

Next time she might not have a woman around to try to protect her. Utter losers. All of them! Which makes me a loser for going back for 6 years.

Need to rethink my lifestyle and dance at home. Safer. Less exposure to violent creepy people.

…

Just realised it was almost 2 years (in 2 days time) since the last time the casino set me up (after my female stalker attacked me) which culminated in my suicide attempt.

What is wrong with these people? Same old bullshit. Not worth my time and effort.

Never mind. Life goes on. I need to move into another kind of life. I will try to get to Byron more often. Get out of this toxic shithole.

20 August 2016

1.17 am. Home early. Really unwell. Oh well. Time for a cup of tea and a snuggle on the couch with Beauregard before I head to bed.

…

Feeling centred. Drinking chrysanthemum tea (suggested by a new acquaintance at the casino who is a Chinese acupuncturist). He has been very kind towards me. (Interesting that I have often attracted various healers of alternative medicine).

I suppose I am a healer of sorts too. I deal in truth and integrity, fight not fright, and sheer delight in Life in all its glory and often putrefaction as well. Sometimes I even scare myself.

I am grateful for the bounteous gifts of the universe. Heart and Soul. Fiery passion. Unquenchable thirst for love, honour, justice and humour (it is not a tumour). I have some beautiful friends I met along my Fool's Journey to Oblivion.

Wonderful women who say they stand in awe of me, but it is I whom am in awe!

I strive to thrive but I drive myself to madness and exhaustion and have damaged my poor wrecked body but it was worth it. All of it. What a ride!

A constant fickle fingered fuck you to my enemies. You did not kill us! We win. Let's eat/drink/dance/pray/laugh together. Be merry in our woes and uproarious in our few triumphs as what is Life without a good long belly laugh and existential angst tweaking our hemlines?

We can kick it to death but even death is only temporary on this Gilgul (reincarnation of Souls).

I have been robbed of so much in life, by my hellhound family of debauchery and greed. But what I cannot be robbed of is my core. The zesty pesky burning eternal flame that flickers from a smouldering ember to a full-throttled screaming Phoenixian inferno that flares and burns off the torrid crap like phosphorescence.

My soul is wild free passion. But I am not alone. Those of us who were not loved the appropriate way as children or adults carry our fire deep within us.

At some point in our lives, we cease to smother our Light. We blaze like a cascading comet across dark skies. We pass this way but once but we leave behind an impression. A legacy for other survivors to be inspired by.

It might be our children. Or our dream. Our art, our music, our poetry. Or our pure driven madness. It might be a fading smile of a Cheshire Cat. Or a long forgotten kindness. It might be an embrace.

It might be the wind beneath the wings of angels, arcane or earthly. Winging us to new horizons of hope and bliss.

Hope (that fetid devil dressed in glory) that kisses with a smile as she stabs one fore and aft.

You gotta love it. Hope, Love's handmaiden, that wipes away tears and fears but lies so beautifully. Where would we be without it?

…

Still unwell. The universe (and my microcosmic body) is telling me to change my life. I can't keep dancing like I have been. My gut won't allow it.

Time to spend the next few years resting and finding another kind of release. I have exhausted every opportunity to turn my life around. Frankly at 51 it is not happening.

So today I am gonna stay in bed. Rest. Read. Cuddle my dog and be happy.

Update 2018: 2 years later and I still went dancing on Friday night after waiting at QE2 hospital for 3 hours after another gallstone attack (which was only diagnosed that morning by ultrasound!)

The Tanya is fucking Formidable. Dragging my carcass into the night and dancing wildly...no matter what! Amazing. May I merit to heal my body and have a few more years of Rejoicing my life ahead of me.

Update 2020: How ironic that it was the Covid lockdown that finally put a stop to my dancing then after I started back at Ecstatic Dance that was stymied by a nasty sadistic narcissist. (So much for that “friendship”!)

Well The Tanya can keep dancing. Alone. Happy. And free of arseholes!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons