Memories: 20 November 2025

20 November 2025

7:25 am I wake up to the lines “we’ve come so far, I wanna be less like you and more like me…so disappointed in you”. It’s a song I used to ham up to with you know who. It was Art, artifice. Not even reality. I was never disappointed until he pulled that last stunt. Oh well. Humans suck. Men lie, betray, use, abuse, fake love, it’s completely fucked and awful and evil. But nothing new under my Sun. Used to it.

I open my blinds with the bright searing sunshine streaming through. Another glorious morning. Spirit says “he did love you though and you did love him”. Aight! I loved many people over my 60 and a half years. My love was always real. Men and women took my heartfelt energy and stomped it into the ground.

But from their ashen debased lies and treachery….again I rose. Better not bitter. The gods rebuilt me each time and now my carapaced heart no longer seeks approval or love or affection or even genuine care from outside of myself. I have to be The One who can hold me together and carry me forwards through the Valley of the Shadows of unreality shitshows of epic hellish proportions and contortions. In fact, I have been doing just that for a very long time.

It’s what makes me “Unfuckwithable”. Life goes on and there will be joy and delight, cameraderie, comfort and beauty and real love again. Mama T will manifest it. It will be built on a firmer scaffolding with real hearts and minds, ones who include me and are proud and happy to have me in their lives, world, existence. 🙂

They will know how far I came, what kind of soul I am, how long I fought to belong and what immense sacrifices were made. They won’t hate me for being weird, broken and reconfigured or for my fierce independence or warrior goddess stance. They won’t mock and deride me for my clumsy hobbit moshing dance or for my poetry of emotion or for my ageing weakened body that I galvanise from arthritic atrophy each day.

They won’t see me as a possession or a human dolly to fucking destroy. They won’t treat me like a charity fuck to laugh at my struggles that were implemented 31 years ago by evil men and my own government and the family court. They won’t hate me for my merest survival of three strangulations and all the other attendant ghastly horror.

They won’t leave me to flounder alone in an actual Zombie Apocalypse. In fact they won’t allow themselves to be “turned” into Zombies but will keep their minds clean and clear and their souls iridescent with Light and their hearts open.

They will take me by the hand and fight for and with me in this spiritual battle that began 31 years ago but everyone else was immersed in Denial…even back then.

They will take the baton and light up others so we can stand together: proud, strong and happy because we have one thing that can never be taken from us until our very last breath: courage. Expressed in song, dance, art, literature.

Ennobled and blessed by the gods, we feast on ambrosia and the wealth that is bestowed upon those who never quit, never cede, never yield to Evil. Who dared to say “No” and held that line…even when the line became electrified like lightning forks and snaked out from under us, the very ground beneath our feet writhing in fury….we held strong.

We the people who saw, heard and recognised the bullshit but chose to stay in this paradigm and loved anyway. Loved so powerfully that we healed ourselves and others. Loved the vicious, unworthy, insensate, sadistic. Loved the True too. Loved and loved until Love vomited itself into the chasms of the scarified poisoned earth.

Turned us brittle and plastic and even a bit spastic! But we grew again, like an ever turning sunflower facing the warmth and glow of the sun. We sang new song lines, we carried our broken hearts and kept them in a golden cage, we hurled them into the fray as talismanic protective devices when all was finally lost…

(Wait…is that you Black Douglas?)

Aye Lassie…’tis I. Ken this Little one…it’s not over yet….you keep that golden heart no man wanted…I honour it!

(If an ancient Scottish warrior honours my heart as he did Robert The Bruce then that is good enough for me, Sir!)

Aye Lass, be ready. I am with you. You are being called into your truest Destiny of all. Take courage. We always have your back!

Blessèd be!

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https://youtu.be/ewklfLZ-oAo?si=7Oyc5dg43kxMKmOD “Reading Part 6: Chapters 14-16”

https://youtu.be/hkbQzUgtJQA?si=KljITrpfww2pqvoy “Kermie is coy!”

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Ew talk about synchronicity! My beautiful cleaning lady Ratih was feeling me this morning about her cat having caught a large rat. Then just now I went to feed my goldfish only to find a very masticated dead cane toad in the top waterfall. The crows like to soften bread or meat which they put in the water. Ew!!!!

I hope the poison from the toad has not leached into my pond and killed my fish. I had to scoop it out of there. Ew! Poor cane toad but I stopped murdering them myself so in a way I am glad the crows are eating them. Nature taking care of business for me! Yayyyy….but still ew!

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(Posted for a Vocal media challenge:)

Mindmeld Melodic Maps

Interpretive Dance off

“I’ve been to Paradise but I’ve never been to Me?” Isn’t that what the song says….well I danced myself in forward directions, achingly in crushing stilettoed steps forwards to my new paradigm that certain enemies wished me “free” in. Away from their little enclave of acrimonious deception.

They didn’t know my mind was mapped, made up, concerted, determined to never cede or quit or yield to the atrophy of my fellow Homo sapiens sapiens that envied me my courage, my stoicism, my powerful fortitude to dance myself almost to death from exhaustion but to …persist.

A mindmeld so powerful that even when the last wannabe lover tried to debase and humiliate me…to play me like a Fool I still found myself holding preciously guarded sacred space for him. Letting him go in his own desolation and confusion…a directionless void of the Avoidant, the cheater, the deceiver. Lost in space without his little soul dear!

Which end is up in this topsy turvy world where even Angels must fight through labryntine mazes to echolocate and guide us forwards….even Angels weep for our self destructive immolation on a timeline that we created in Mind: not of health or righteousness but the ignominy of our current Age.

The love burns like a squelching ember of misbegotten grief that etches itself deep into my skin, sinks like a stone in the pit of my core, sorrows my soul.

Right or wrong, north or south, east or west…the gods fly me to the highest peak….show me with piercing clarity and the clarion call of heroes from ancient stories….where it is I am going.

No longer lost or out of my mind. No longer straggling behind the insensate sheep or being pushed like lemmings off a cliff.

I exercised my No and it was terrifying and fell on wilfully deafened ears. Hearts and minds closed to mass formation psychotic panic disorder, or corrupt willful greed and depopulation agendas.

The four directions called my name and in the centre of gravity, gravely holding my own individualistic corner of that rent fabric called Fate or that garment they tried to cloak you with of their own ignorant self deception, I wove a new cloth!

Clothed in Time and Trust in my gods I persisted.

Lost in the space-time CERNic scenic route, I found Me. “Who’s that girl running around without you?” One of Boudiccea’s babes. Climbing into her own chariot and riding through each and every epochal evil Storm.

Now lying in the summer lands in her hammock, soaking up peace while pieces of her that were flayed and frayed are released and cast off so my remnant ship can float a bit longer.

Ahoy, me hearties….is that land I see? We floated for eons through other men’s darkness and hate but here we are at last. Too little…too late to stop the unravelling of Western civilisation. Too many compliant and complicit in their own poisoning….but fly my pretties, the map shows us who we are and what we might yet heal from and Become.

Alive in the ever-whirling swirling mystery of you!

The sun rises and the moons fall and each and every day is a triumph of replete confirmation bias that knows no other way of Being.

Every direction takes us back to the zero point field of soul only we don’t always know that. We strive, we contrive, we heat seek, we flow, we live, we love. Then in the wonderment of the Maze, distracted by signs from the heavens and fake hoaxes played on all of us…we meet our Truth. Hold your line, People of Earth.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons

20 November 2024

Awww this makes me miss George The Busker who I spent many early hours of the morning dancing for outside the Treasury Casino. He even thanked me once for helping him get enough money to go home to his kids in London. (That was when he was in a good headspace! Another time he told me to fuck off and stop stealing his business…a paranoid delusion…) as I was only being a true friend and finishing off my wild nights in safe company, with even more dancing.

I hope he is okay and still out there busking somewhere. He was a lapsed Jew like me. His father was a schochet (a ritual butcher) but George was very fair and looked Scandinavian. His daughters also were beautiful and looked Viking. It’s funny how the ancient ones brought us together.

But we fell out…after he informed me that “one of the homeless men will stab me”. He upset Theo so much that he flew into my arms and held me tight and promised that he would never stab me. I said “I know…Theo…I know. No homeless man will ever harm me. They recognise my spirit”.

Ultimately that “stabbing” came from the casino staff and management just after Beauregard’s death so I left and never went back. Nor will I go to the new casino. 12 years of dancing in a toxic waste dump insane asylum was quite enough. I go where I am safe and loved…and if not loved, then respected and treated with kindness.

But yes… “wish you were here” back in your own mind, body and spirit like before the “alien invasion” of that Covidian madness ate into your already precarious brain…my friend. Another casualty. It’s chilling!

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/19ajizaPiQ/?mibextid=UalRPS “Pink Floyd project.nl “wish you were here”.

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Laughing my arse off. It occurred to me that my lustful yearning to own these boots (Christian Loubouton $3820 no less/no more!) is symbolic of life, closing circuitry ie full circle. I wore similar boots back (manufactured by Doc Martens) in 2012 which I purchased with my small (Hardwon on the coal face of great evil and cumulative trauma) inheritance for the princely sum of $560! I was 47.

I danced in them joyously and vaingloriously until the seams imploded. A symbol of my own prickly fiery warrior goddess nature, overcoming childhood sexual abuse, amidst various other concurrent abuses, from my own family of origin’s greed and narcopathy, also surviving my former partners as well. Bejaysus!

So it’s kinda astonishing that these similar styled boots should pique my interest yet again (even though I could never afford $4K to buy them.)

They arrived in my worldview at the same time as slithering slathering obsequious mendacious serpentine creatures and their cohorts tried to regain a connection to me at the 10th birthday party for the Brooklyn Standard. However, I rose above their false feckless machinations, like a Queen. Queen of my own Destiny, my own Dance, my own gnosis. (Then only 12 days later, an actual snake moved in beside me to shed her skin!)

I am NOT so broken down, 12 years later as I once was. I may not be able to afford those boots but my barefooted grounded Walk on Planet Earth and my deep love for a few people who are genuine, heartfelt and love me back is far far more valuable and priceless and “golden” than anything that I wore 12 years ago, or soaked my own vagina in, or the kinds of vermin I drew to myself 12 years ago that thought they might try to reclaim me. (For what reason, The Tanya might wonder?) Hmmm?

Their own petty naïve obsessions and abject terror that The Tanya might at long last …have joy, peace and real loves, so the slithering wormèd ones had to try to gain re-entry or a measure of control over the emanating Tanya with her whimsical Magickal ways. Nuh uh…fools. Never again.

I have truer greater loves in my life now. The kinds of loves that would never hurt, debase or betray me. And if those too, turn rancid, or dissemble like dust motes after a nuclear holocaust then…I have Myself. Worthy, courageous and authentic. Those boots are made for walking. Or summat lak’ tha’.

Hahahah.

12 years. Also symbolic of the age of an Orthodox bar mitzvah girl, coming into her adulthood (religiously speaking)

12 years to reclaim Me and for the spell of my dead evil perverted mother (dead almost 15 years next March!) to be Broken.

Don’t ever Fuck with The Tanya. It took 59 1/2 years to heal and grow Me back. Almost 60 next April which will be 5 cycles of 12! The metamorphosis as I enter my 60th year has been transformative and astonishing. Btw my child sexual abuse began when I was 6!

So it is clear to me that some kind of completion of an old ancestral curse or manifestation of intergenerational trauma is at play here.

Who will be with me in truest deepest love, loyalty and passion and romance when I turn 60…if at all? Someone good, kind, honouring and trustworthy? Someone worthy of The Tanya and her wildness, intellect, heart, mind, body, soul and…magick?! Who I wonder?

Something I will need to remain cautiously circumspect about. And in the meantime…as always….continue with my Dance through this weird life. Alone…or in good company. I shall Suffer no fools, or shades from the past.

When my boots split their seams I hung them up, along with my earthy ribald feminine sexuality. High on a dusty cobwebbed shelf where no mortal man was permitted access to my inner sanctum sanctorum or earthy delights ever ever again. Lol.

It’s Time to restore The Tanya’s full vitality with The One! A man worthy of my heart, mind, body, spirit…and Magick! So mote it be. With harm to none, competition with none…so it is Done…(and dusted? ahem.) Amen v’ selah! Aho!

“ARRRRRRIIIIIBBBBBAAAAA”. Giggles and falls off my perch. Vell, you know Darlinks, ze Tanya must have some Fun before she dies, even with her own quirky sense of the absurd!

By the gods! It’s a living!

20 November 2022 (Sunday)

I woke up after 5 hours sleep (9.22 am). I feel energised even though I am physically exhausted. Like two seperate entities inhabiting one body. Mama T who wants to fly and the other one who wants to die. But inbetween I push my older body to its limits.

I went out last night. Hesitantly. I actually felt exhausted but forced myself back out onto my infamous spot at the Livewire Bar. I missed dancing the last few weekends.

I had to use mindfulness and my own iron will to get myself out there. There was a lot of love in the room last night. (Except for one of my creepy crazy stalkers who appeared at the end of the night when I was in adrenaline extremis after dancing for 5 hours!)

He got up in my face so I quoted Psalm 93 at him and he recoiled. I laughed. I was a tiny bit tipsy. I said “yeah get thee hence, demon!” but he only backed off a short while. Yuck. I just ignored him.

Two women danced with me most of the night. Both very beautiful. One is Cambodian, the other black, I assume of African American heritage. She was extremely beautiful.

Some man immediately attached himself to her. She was sweet with him. A new budding romance. I could see she was wary, as well she should be in the casino!

The man turned out to be a Vet which I thought was interesting so I told him about Beauregard costing me $112.45 cents and the lovely French vet who actually pronounced Beauregard’s name accurately and how the whole thing cost me a fortune because of Beauregard’s sexual proclivities with his teddy bear.

James says it would have really been painful as nylon without lube would have burned! I agreed. I told him “no more teddy bears and although my French vet is lovely…we will be avoiding him in the future too!”

Anyway I hope things work out for him with my new friend as he seemed a gentleman. A rarity at the casino! Meanwhile I danced myself almost to obliteration and my spirit soared.

Phoenix Rising played Zombie but waited until I was heading to the toilet. (Nutbush was next on their play sheet). I was annoyed they changed songs on me but I came back in time to have a good cervical smash of the tiny bones in my neck and dance out my protest as I do every time that song plays.

They finished up with “what’s Up?” And I yelled out for a revolution and “what’s going on” like a seasoned old Anarchist. It’s all a play… nothing gets done. The pissweak generation are all Complicit in their own immolation now.

Only little old me…holding my sacred space and drawing a line in the rotting effluent of these times. Carving a nîche for myself in a zombie apocalypse like a manic denialist. But still adorable….

I scared the young Latino guy at the end by sitting next to him and asking him what his story was? He was so terrified he said “You are sitting in Steve’s seat!” “Who?” Quoth I. “He’s not even here”.

I asked “is he the one with the wonky eye?” He nodded. I said “I don’t bother to learn everyone’s names but dance on my spot as fast as I can and stay safe that way”.

I got up and left. Latino guy visibly shaken. He thought I was trying to hook up. Which is funny. I have zero interest in that. Plus he’s only 40. Ridiculous.

Mama Muerte noticed he watches me often during the night. But if I interface directly… these zombies fall apart at the seams. Poor lads. If I really wanted him, not even Steve could protect him.

Note to self: I must ramp up my femme fatale skills…just for the sheer mischief and bloodsport of it. But these men are so inadequate it’s hardly worth the effort of putting on lipstick and a nice frock!

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20 November 2021

Crystal visited this evening. I finally got to give her the pendant I made for her birthday. She gave me a blue and white striped dress.

When she was leaving by my front gates she almost stepped on a baby carpet snake. We both got a huge fright! It slithered into my banana trees area.

I now have the Heebie Jeebies as there are probably lots more baby snakes around my garden.

(Also their parents!)

I said that last carpet snake that appeared on my neighbours’ veranda about a month ago, was looking like it wanted to breed as it had been going around the entire neighbourhood. Peter down the road rehomed it in the forest somewhere but this was a baby so her eggs must have finally hatched. Eeep!

I will have to be careful in the garden from now on. I worry that Bobo might get bitten.

Jan Attridge: I never heard of those kind of snakes in the states, do they go by a different name? I take it their poisonous?

Me: carpet pythons are not poisonous but they can still bite which can cause infection. They grow to very large pythons, and usually kill their prey by crushing it. (So my dog and bird are in danger).

This one is a baby (if I have correctly identified it!). Hopefully it will make its way back into the forest and not decide to set up camp in my attic or under the eaves under my house!

Lynda Rae: Jan Attridge carpet python is another name for a non venomous snake we have here in Australia, they are the “good” snake as they kill the venous ones like King Browns, Browns, Red Belly Blacks and the Tiger snake.. Australia has six of the top ten most venomous snakes, and the reality is that they are so common they could all be in my backyard right now!! With Pythons, due to not cleaning their teeth, they have a lot of bacteria from eating rodents etc, so at worst all a person needs is a Tetanus shot .. small domestic pets are a concern but ultimately these “good” snakes get rid of the nasties.

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20 November 2020

The workmen came back and installed a replacement smoke alarm for the chirping faulty one. I was not expecting them until Monday as they were meant to be sick!

Brett said he had a chest infection but was feeling much better with antibiotics. He said he did not want me to have to put up with the chirps until Monday. I thought that was lovely!

He said he was so ill on Tuesday, had a temp of 40 degrees and had to go back to his doctor as she was not taking him seriously. He passed out in his vehicle.

I said he was probably low on oxygen and I find it disgusting and alarming how many general practitioners are not capable of taking chest infections or asthma related problems seriously. I myself have had a long hard struggle with doctors over many years with the same health issue! He said they only worry about Covid now. I agreed.

It is so nice to have a quiet home again. I thought these particular contractors were really kind!

I had my debrief this afternoon. I got the referral Papers signed off and they are ready to be posted off for the Cannibis Doctors. I hope they can help me! It was great to see my psych face to face at long last. Bobo climbed up on his lap. It was hilarious! My Dogtor loves our Doctor!

I also bought the wooden bench seat before my appointment. Then went to Pet Barn for lorikeet food for Charlie.

A busy day!!

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Kelly Anne: I hope he didn't have Covid. Poor bugger. They only worry about Covid here too. As soon as they figured out I had no fever & hadn't been near any returning passengers etc the other day, they dumped my case of being unable to catch my breath like a tonne of just-baked hot bricks.

They don't seem to have understood that whole lesson about "gradually, then suddenly"... & how unpredictable but fast the "suddenly" part comes about.

There's a giant grey area between life-threatening emergency & something you go to a GP to fix.

The stupid part is the doctors can't even seem to agree on what job belongs to what area of medicine.

They need the get their shit together. They are literally KILLING ppl. Slowly AND quickly.

But try telling anyone & they just wanna tell you to be grateful for what we do have, which is stupid because that's not how you improve a system.

You improve it by treating a complaint as a gift. McDonald's get it. They take complaints seriously. So wtf is wrong with doctors. Or are they so far above the rest of humanity that they can afford NOT to take a leaf from a business that truly knows how to do customer service & show its customers some respect?

There's truly no point going to an ED unless you know you are dead, so they can record it. That's their only purpose these days it seems.

And every now & then someone gives them what they want. An extra cadaver to pretend they cared about & to count.

Meanwhile next weeks cadaver is in bay 2, needing help now but the doctor in there is saying she needs to go through community health care, from whom she might get a call in 2yrs time wh efn she's 6ft under...

So be it. Just wish God would grant ppl like us the ability to have the serenity to accept the slow torturous death we are guaranteed under Medicare these days.

Me: Kelly Anne he had to have a Covid test (mandated by his workplace) and said it was a Drive through one.

I knew he had a chest infection or asthma when he was here on Tuesday. How his gp could not diagnose that (even over the phone) just horrifies me).

I once had a middle aged female gp who told me “I can see you are breathing but you are not getting any air in”. 7 or 10 years of medical school churned out that dickhead. I was very ill at that time.

I have been with my current gp since 2011. She does not have some basic understanding or empathy either.

Told me, jokingly, the other day that I should look at my impending colonoscopy as the “Greenslopes day spa” cos you get a nice clean out and and a sandwich after.

I replied “oh like those perverts that enjoy colonic irrigation?” I said “there is something seriously wrong with people who get turned on by having their shit pumped out of them!”

She is young and has never had a colonoscopy. The surgery part is a walk in the park but it’s the prepping that is so vile!

After each one I am literally weak as a kitten for two or three months. Not a pleasant thing at all.

But it’s that or play Russian Roulette with my polyps turning cancerous and as I live in such high level stress due to poverty and trauma issues that switch could be turned on by my genes at any given time. Yuck. And fuck.

It’s been 17 months since that gall bladder surgery which has taken all that time for me to recover from. So here we go again.

Kelly Anne: Tanya Arons I don't think I can go ahead with mine. I cancelled it.

Me: Kelly Anne re-book it. Do it when they next have an opening.

I was never ever going to have another one either. But my gp rather pressured me as she said the 9 by 7 polyp in 2015 colonoscopy was rather large and they are dangerous as they can turn cancerous but you get no symptoms until it’s too late.

Hmmm. Not sure that is entirely true. But my cousin’s wife died of bowel cancer as did my father in law. He was dead in 6 weeks of being diagnosed.

So I decided to play it safe and be a good little complaint arse renderer again.

Besides I have already had persistent diarrhoea for 8 weeks which only stopped in the past week. So what is one more day and night on the golden throne!

Kelly Anne: Tanya Arons love that. A gd little compliant arse-renderer. 👍😂 Yeah, except they keep getting their knickers in a knot every time I have to cancel bcos 1 of my other 12-20 conditions has flared up, Or 1 of my kids is sick or my ex is being an asshole again.

I'm just over it all atm. There comes a point when too much is too much. I'm on so many different waitlists my mind is a merry-go-round that lost control & just keeps getting faster flinging everything off / out of it as it goes.

AT one point I designed an excel spreadsheet to try & keep up but I needed to keep on top of it. Every week was a mess of appts.

1 sick day where I take my eyes off the ball for 2secs to focus on recovering (as I was instructed to do) & it costs me a month getting back on track.

I've had weeks of sick days sporadically but perfectly placed in such a way as its screwed my schedule up for the next 2yrs.

I got no hope of getting back on top of it all. Each of them thinks their dept oughta be top priority.

I'm too far behind, theres too much complexity & too many depts & I just lost ANOTHER support worker this week. I'm exhausted from just trying to deal with the system & get my health back on track now.

I'm constantly put between a rock & a hard place & then they blame ME for THEM having put me in that position too!

Nah fuck it. I'm off this merry go round for a while. I dont want to spend the rest of whatever is left of my time here stressed out by nasty secretaries who go NO CLUE about how hard scheduling CAN get when you're on the OTHER side of it all.

But thats ok. Whenever I hear them complain about me wasting THEIR time Ima just LOL from now on & mumble "you'll keep, karmas a patient bitch"...

20 November 2018

I had a lovely afternoon and evening with Jarrod and Harvey yesterday. Jarrod hung up the spare hammock in the tree so we lay in our hammocks and chilled out! It was wonderful.

I was consumed with a rage yesterday about my bloody neighbours leaving a trailer on my front verge for 4 weeks now. It finally got on my infamous last nerve!

So it was good to have the soothing company of my handsome friend and his dog. We drank wine and had cheese and crackers and Cheezels and at night we had Miss India curries for dinner.

I had another night struggling to sleep but eventually settled down and woke up today at 10:40 am.

This evening I am picking up Crystal from work and she and I are going to have dinner together. Looking forward to it.

I realised that in spite of my health issues: the dreadful effects of gallstones, etc etc etc blah blah blech that I have been happier these past few months. I think that I am finally overcoming the grieving for various people in my life, none of whom brought anything good to me but ongoing pain and suffering.

It feels good to shuck off the cloak of abject horror and despair and regain my natural state of bliss again.

Having a cascade of former male friends and lovers make cameo appearances at the casino, leering at me from across the room was, as all life reviews are, frustratingly creepy. But proof that I have healed to a large degree and also signs that Love is indeed eternal. Hahaha.

A psychic once told me “they will never ever forget you!” Which is amusing but also exhausting at times. I guess when men thought they could destroy me so easily and get away with it they came up against a Force of their own Reckoning.

Survivors are magical creatures. We know how to blend both light and dark in our fractured psyches, mutilated bodies and shattered but now gloriously kinstugi-ed souls.

Light and love and truth gleams from our cracked worldview and broken lives and we manifest a power that is not ours alone. Which is why we are hated and feared by so many ordinary ignoble mindless mortals.

We are the warrior gods and goddesses who stared down our enemies, flew in the face of systemic abuse and societal betrayals and Shone anyway. Schoen! Jawohl! The Shining has begun. Not reflected or deflected glory but our own Neshamah glowing from within and waking up the lives of those who, like I once was, remain sleeping Zombies.

Arise and Shine for the glory of the Lord is upon you and those who bear you malevolence shall slink away like starving vermin for they cannot exist in the light of Love. They can only clutch and claw and gnaw on bits that you allow them to take, nourishing them so they too may grow and glow.

Nom nom nom. But I have fed too many psychic vampires and it has taken nearly a decade to regain my powers as a woman, while simultaneously fighting my own traumas, and beating back more horrors than you can poke a stick at.

I look down at myself with deep love and compassion. Ahh yes...look at The Tanya and how far she has come. I am well satisfied.

Life is beautiful. Here I come!

20 November 2016

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4.39 am. Home from a lovely night dancing with Jenny and Terrie. I can't feel my feet (even though I wore my Doc Martens). I had fun which is all that matters.

Now sitting on my couch with Beauregard at my feet, eating semolina pudding. Lovely!

20 November 2015

I have spent the afternoon sorting Crystal's crap under the house. Still so much to do but I was able to throw out old cardboard boxes and repack some of her stuff and store it neatly. Some I brought upstairs and doing some washing.

I need to buy more plastic storage containers. Grrr. I have an urge to have everything in order both inside and outside the house. Which means change is coming. It is a huge energy block to have all her stuff dumped under there anyway. I feel happier knowing things are getting sorted.

Jarrod Nielsen: lol...Should have known. You tend to do the most work during extreme weather situations...lol

Me: I went dancing at 1 am. Driving into the city, I noticed the moon is almost full. It is rather amazing how susceptible I am to full moons, solar flares and eclipses. Also tempests (wild weather with rain and lightning). I am definitely a Wild Child.

I got home at 5.30 am. I danced for a few hours then sat outside chatting to George and Katrina, my homeless friend.

Now I think I shall rest today. Tomorrow is a big day, picking up Alcide :-)

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Two more somnambulant patiences. Attending the imminent arrival of a new baby for the family. A four-legged canine of the Pomeranian lineage. Small, ebullient, hirsute and extraordinary.

Life is good when you have Love in your life.

20 November 2014

I just had a cuddle at dusk with my Mischief Rooster. He copies the sound of my kisses with his beak and nuzzles. I am in Love with a little Cock Supreme. He is gorgeous.

His mother was less affectionate but settled down on my chest when I soothed her. We were 2 abreast. Mischief knew what was coming and seemed to enjoy his cuddle and kiss session.

Then I went to get laying mash from under my house and sure enough, Poss-poss was under the bathroom eaves, staring at me blearily. I wished him a Good Morning, Good Evening and Good Night and he stared at me pleasantly while I scooped out the mash then left, turning out the light. I know how he feels! I hate being woken up with bright electric light in my eyes.

My mother used to do that to me a lot, especially when I was sick. My eyes are very sensitive so it used to really hurt and drive me nuts. In hospital, when they wake you up for more drugs etc, they keep the lights dim. I was always grateful for that. Morphine at 3 am with dim lights....Yummy! Lol!

The other annoying thing my mother did each school morning (she woke up at 4 am every morning), was wait until I had half an hour to get ready for school then she would slam my bedroom door open with such force, it would hit the wardrobe with a Bang! Then scream "Get up".

I would leap out of bed, still exhausted. (I have suffered from chronic fatigue and depression most of my entire life). Then I would scrub my teeth, throw on my uniform and fortunately, living on a bus terminus, I would be on the next bus. I rarely had time for breakfast and most often bought my lunches at school (which is how I started getting fat!)

It never occurred to Gisela that she could gently rouse me, get me to have breakfast, and spend quality time with me before my impending misery at school each day.

For my School Certificate, a family friend, a young woman in her 30's who had just had her second baby told me that it was child abuse to send a 15 year old to school without breakfast and was disgusted she let me go off to a major examination without food. I said, "don't worry, I am used to it" but she made me pancakes and tried to calm my nerves about the Maths exam. I failed it anyway but I never forgot her kindness and concern for me.

In the middle of my examinations, Mum got me a job, waitressing at Suzy's Coffee Lounge. I remember her and Suzy telling me I would never need Maths anyway, so they needed me to go to work.

Suzy, (a ruthless sociopath but a successful business woman and my mother, another ruthless Sociopath) had their needs met while I struggled to juggle work with my end of year exams. Hmmm! Sabotage, much?!

So today as I was fixing up the topiary memorial chair I made for my dead abusive mother, complete with copper plaque, I had a chuckle to myself at how I have Loved and honoured all my Abusers. I really should just throw any reminder of my mother in the garbage, or burn it.

Yet I can't. She is so much a part of me, the epic damage that is wound into my mind, body and soul. The wounds I have had to let calcify and encrust like a gnarly old tree, and still with all that evil crap and negativity, let it slowly grow new and beautiful fruit that is no longer bitter and sour or even rotten, but sweet, luscious and Life -affirming.

The apple is no longer poisoned. Ding Dong the evil bitchy witch is Dead, and this Jewish Viking Witch has tasted the best fruit of all. The fruit of Freedom!

….

Just saw 7:11 pm, this arvo it was 2:11 when I woke up.

I also saw 9:11 last night, 3:11 yesterday, and 11:11. For past 3 days I have been seeing 11's. Spirit is trying to tell me something.

11 is a Master Number that stands on its own meaning but also breaks down to 2. It represents 2 individuals standing together like the pillars of Boaz and Joachim. Hmmm! I will have to wait and see what it all means.

I hate waiting. I have been last in line all my life lol! Especially when it came to love partners. No more playing second fiddle for me. I need a bloke who can at least Harmonise with me or let me conduct the orchestra (more like a synchopated cacophany!) occasionally.

Tweet, tweet! This little Birdie likes flying high above the rat race, solo and serene. But when I land, I dance all night long and I don't play with idiots...well, hopefully, not anymore ;-)

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I have gained 3 kilos in 2 weeks. Hmmm, not dancing enough. Too many Jack Daniels (blame the Coke!) and too many lollies!

I need to find a place I can dance for 5 hours so my freaked out muscles which ran (Baltered!) to fat can straighten themselves up, dust themselves off and take off again. My body loves and hates me but hey, it's just padding. The real me is very very slim, stunningly beautiful and infinite! Laughing my spirit out!

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'I came here to let you know,

The Letting Go,

has taken Place'.

Wise Woman, Melissa Etheridge.

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20 November 2013

I slept until 6 pm. Still unwell. Bloody lungs, grrrr. I went to see lyn who made me a lovely fried rice for dinner. I sold her 4 dozen eggs, so I could afford cat food. Living on the edge but grateful for Lyn's TLC and awesome support.

20 November 2010

I'm home from the "Short and Sweet" ten minute play festival. Crystal's performance was intense and powerful. The other plays were great too. I'd hate to be the judges and have to choose between them.

20 November 2009

I am wondering if anyone else gets the Cosmic Joke that has been my life so far? Why do I find it all so funny? I guess it's proof of the old adage that She who laughs last, laughs best! Mumblesss.....something about the Fat Lady singing too. LOL

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Scorching hot day, no rain, so the weather bureau was right and I am wrong...grrrrrr. Really really need water. A good downpour or storm would be nice.

20 November 2008

is glad the storm is over...it was a doozy!!!

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is sitting out tonight's storm

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons