Memories: 21 July 2025

21 July 2025

7:59am Well lookie here! Alive again…the world doesn’t end…it constantly upcycles and spirals into infinity.

When the worlds collide it’s usually cos some sadistic cunt does some irrevocable heart damage…but de Mama T slaps on more kinstugied spiritual gold and struts her stuff and keeps dancing. Heals! Sometimes even miraculously falls in love again…with herself, her gods, her Earth and the few wonderful souls who See her and treat her with kindness and integrity. So 2027 can come and go like all Doom and Gloom scenarios.

If Aliens arrive…we will share and make adjustments to coexist. If AI reaches Singularity…well, we made that shit so we will unmake that shit. (I can only hope!) If we live or die it all comes down to guts and glory and sweet determination. Let’s hope we don’t all self immolate in the meantime.

Someone always profits by scaring the bejesus out of us…so live well, abundantly and be with the ones you love, and go out in Nature. Just in case, all these apocalypse prophecies manifest because we co created that drama…save seeds, grow your own souls, bloom! Live as though you have a most wonderful future and don’t let the bastards (your own fears, doubts, societal zombie atrophies that feed on despair) ever grind you down.

I woke up Breathing so today is another gift and potentiates denied many others. Hold true like glue. Live beautifully. Mama T loves you!

21 July 2024

8:38 am. I woke up at 7:21 am. I slept for 11 hours. No pee break until I woke up. This is huge progress. To sleep that long without interruptions. Omg. I have stayed in bed, resting a bit longer. Time to get up!

Grateful for a good solid sleep as I only had four hours the previous night. Dancing wildly had energised me I suppose.

So what shall I do with my Sunday? No idea. But I will wrest enjoyment out of my day as I strive to do every day. Live fully and vibrantly.

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Two very happy butcher birds. I gave them some of my cooked mince from my spaghetti bolognaise. Now they are obsessed with me lol.

21 July 2022

Trigger warning: psychic attacks and trauma processing

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11:30 am I am having lots of nightmares or uneasy dreams about former love interests and partners. Specifically all the emotional abuse and sadistic nasty things they said to me over the years. It got so bad at one point that I wanted to die.

But…why should I offer up my beauty, my courage, my intellect, my very soul as a sacrifice to Molochian-type monsters that verily, verily the best or only thing they had to offer me was their penis. For fucks sake.

The last lover that I have had some sort of weird arse deep love for, which in psychological terms could almost be called a “trauma bond” but it’s worse than that: it’s SPIRITUAL.

Well he pops up on my periphery in unexpected places and space. Like a ghost except he’s a man (although in truth incapable of treating me with honour or basic respect, more like a naughty malfeasant mischievous teenage boy). Hmmm maybe he is a zombie ghost man. Nothing left inside his heart and mind and soul as his resident demon ate everything away leaving him a vapid husk.

But I know…he still has a strong attachment to me on a psychic level. I have been feeling him intensely for weeks. Which means he is planning to interface with me in the physical world. (That is what usually happens.)

He appeared in the darkness at a crossroads last time on 8th July 2022 when I was driving to the casino. He was on a bicycle (10:19 pm) waiting at the intersection and I was stuck at a red light (looking fabulous darling, all sparkly with my glitter eye shadow and dressed to enchant as I was off dancing!)

I sensed someone staring at me (I was actually talking to my spirit guide who had randomly stated his name in a perfunctory manner!) so I was kinda yelling at that entity to stop mentioning his name as I am sick of hearing it or thinking about him and after over 8 years…it just goes Nowhere!

So you can imagine my shock when I sense this intense stare to see a man on his bike with a pale blue bicycle helmet staring at me and as I stared back, he quickly jerked his head to the left to pretend he was not looking at me.

But honestly, I must have looked fabulous but like a crazy person, muttering to myself (at the spirit!) to stop throwing him in my face and then, hey presto…there he was!!!

Well I am fairly sure it was him. It’s hard to be absolutely certain as I could not see his dreads. It might have been just another random skinny lost boy staring at my goddess-like awesomeness wondering if I was singing to music in my car or had gone stark raving mad?

But alas no, my spirits tease and taunt me but I am not insane…just yet!

I have a contract with the gods that involves him coming to me in “perfect alignment” so the fact he is perfectly aligned at the crossroads in the past year whenever I see him…is a tad bemusing.

Crossroads. Ye shall not pass until ye have shown yourself worthy of my love and light. Or at least polite. Polity and modesty and genuine high regard.

No more disparaging my vagina or my personhood or trawling veritable sluts to harass me. (To be fair he quit doing that!) That is some small progress!

Hahaha…Okay maybe the women were decent women but stalking ex lovers of one’s current squeeze is a significantly sluttish thing to do so no, I change my mind. They are callow worthless sluts with no respect for themselves or the Sisterhood.

But I must ask myself: what is it about this idiotic man that I refuse to give up on. It’s not like we were ever partners, or involved in a deep loving relationship.

What is it with this strange love? Dr Strangeeee Love. Even my psychiatrist is mystified by this odd attachment. And yes…I know I have a mixed style of attachment due to decades of trauma.

I know I am expansive, in your face and heavily self protective. Like an armodillo curling into an impenetrable ball but internally berserk…please love me, please love me…only to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous romantic or sexual malfeasances of the kind that sends women to madness or to war.

Forget the face that launched a thousand ships. Helen of Troy. I am The Tanya of the brutalised and embattled, of BrisBane infamy and I will have my truest deepest love. Without the bullshit games and insidious invidious debauchery.

PS I need a hug and $20 million!

But today is a beautiful day, in spite of the rain. My cleaning lady just left so my house is clean. I have dutifully ironed silk scraps from my rotted out sari.

I am clutching to the remnants of my love and my hope and my ever swirling dreams in an actual fucking apocalypse while singing my sollsipstic sarcastic Calypso Blues and trying not to die from my chronic bronchitis and my own epic fucking cynicism. My circumspection that circumscribed my own spirit and ultimately just makes me laugh.

It’s all absurdist. But I am the Queen of my own Absurdist, finely wrought and delicately parsed out, unravelled psychedelic dreaming.

It’s for the gods to decide. What my fate shall be?

True love…or Bust!

Oh and I feel like I am stuck in a hell loop, writing my truth whilst plying my Troth with the gods and a certain avoidant trickster spirit dressed as a 15 year old boy, trapped in his own inability to love me as a man needs to love a woman. Honourably. Kindly. Gently. Tenderly. Faithfully.

In the meantime my quest continues. Climb every mountain while surfing every moribund avalanche and sometimes…sometimes you may just get the love you most desired and genuinely needed.

The big love denied you all your life by vicious enemies and bloodless curs and NPC’s devoid of heart, guts and soul. (The lights are on but no one’s home!)

Yet I kept attracting them like moths to the flame. What the fuck does that say about me?

I must put out quite a soul signature even from inside my short fat Hobbit body and my mindful predilections to Love too much, that had to be internalised to grow Me back.

That last lover still has much to teach me. How to love myself enough that I never attract such a Sado- masochist ever again!

But let’s face it: it’s my speciality. Maybe it’s not a curse but a gift that only I excel at! Survival. Isolation. And my weaving of my ravaged heart back into an art form that is both seen and heard and takes the breath away. (Including my own breath!)

I have been rescuing and recycling scraps of existence since early childhood. No wonder I get tired and turn my face to the wall from time to time.

But the gods/spirits/ancestors that love me won’t let me die and I eagerly await my contract to be fulfilled. In this lifetime. It’s a kindness and promise that I can see is slowly unfurling for me.

Trust I must in my angels and yeah if you see me yelling in my car: just nod politely and assume I am singing.

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11:57 pm I just finished cutting all the sari shapes up, then sorting them into piles and ironing them. I still need to put them away (and pack up the ironing board and iron!) but felt weak and dizzy and exhausted. I will need to clear it all away in the morning.

I have been busy doing random jobs today. This morning I ironed some handmade paper that had been lying around for several months. Cut it up and stored it away. Later on I made another ring.

Then this evening I got stuck into cutting up the sari which has also laid around for a while. I have four boxes of fabric that Robyn gave me to try to find a place to stash. I will try to do that tomorrow.

Lyn visited me today and spoiled me with yummy food and cake and even treats for Charley and Bobo! We had a lovely time, chatting. Bobo squealed with happiness when she arrived. I had told him she was coming so he ran out to look for every car door he heard and worked himself into a tizzy with excitement. Sweet boy!

I think he gets quite lonely, living with me as nothing much happens apart from our usual short walk each day.

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I bought the dye to refresh my faded pink cardigan. Hot fuschia. I figure a brighter colour might cover up some of the stains. Exciting! I have never dyed a woollen cardigan before. I am becoming quite a versatile little domestic goddess!

I look forward to seeing the results in the near future. In fact hopefully if it dyes well, I will be tickled in pink! Plus it will look lovely with my purple coat and purple top hat.

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I am getting very frustrated with myself. I attempted soldering a ring together for about the 12th time. It simply won’t flow. I have tried everything. I wonder what I am doing wrong?

I guess I will have to keep trying though. Until one day I fluke it or it just works. Gahhhh!

I watched another video on sweat soldering so tried that method. No dice.

The two components of the ring are in the pickle, cleaning up. Maybe it will Never work as I have burnt it too many times? Maybe I should just give up on my dreams of becoming a jeweller?

What else do I fail at every single day of my life?

Love, breathing properly, soldering.

Wellllllll….I have been breathing badly for 57 years so there is that.

I am immersed in such enormous love from genuine caring friends and my pets and one daughter (even if I see little of her). I have the love of the gods that love me when I beat my breast about failing at being a successful human!

Soldering is a skill that can be learned given the right conditions are met!

I just need to remember that there is no fail…only try and try again. Fail better.

21 July 2020

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21 July 2019

I went to a drumming circle at West End this afternoon and evening. Very pleasant way to pass the time. The river was beautiful.

Now at Jackpot Dining having my favourite meal. Then home to my Beauregard who will be glad to see me. :-)

21 July 2018

Good morning. Another egg from Black Betty this morning. It seems yesterday’s egg was no fluke and she is definitely laying now. So happy.

It took her a while to settle in, I suppose. Her eggs are perfect and almost pink in colour unlike my rescue hen, Becky who rarely lays now and when she does the shell is malformed and very thin. Tired old girl. But she lives here in freedom and happiness which is all anyone can want after a life of abuse and neglect.

Sacred Space: home to the broken and rejected but ever-blossoming new lives for all. Especially The Tanya.

Thank you HaShem for surrounding me with great beauty, great loves (all platonic!), generosity, joy and healing. Thank you for the music and a body still capable of dancing. For my mind which is still resonant with some sort of deep consciousness (even if I check out of it occasionally) and for Life itself which never ceases to amaze me and more often than not, bless me.

Thank you to Julie who literally saved me three years ago and to all my adorable friends that nurtured me in my darkest times and have watched me swirl up and down on my personal holy grail in my psychedelic dream.

Thank you to all the great spirits who See me and Love me anyway in all my fecund fury and glorious rehabilitation from the edge of the abyss.

I am alive and present in this moment because of you all.

I love you.

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Last night’s trance dance was designed to facilitate soul retrieval. Yesterday was a beautiful day: very spiritual with even an altered state in more ways than one, darlings.

I am grateful for the reconfiguring which I hope and pray will help bring me to the best possible reality that I can manifest in this life. I am learning to trust in Great Spirit/Creator/The Holy One that my deepest yearnings have been recognised and that I am being blessed in so many ways (even though I have not yet seen the outcome) I can feel it in the love and unexpected beautiful fellowship of my soul kin and beloveds.

You have honoured me and upheld me, loved me and protected me and I have also kept faith in my soul’s quest. It’s a long road, this highway to Hell and back to Paradise but so humbling and yet edifying, flying in the face of reason and audacious trickster frippery but always laughing last and best and loudest. (That used to drive my mother nuts...my laughter!)

Freedom to the Crone! Pity that I have had to embody my own declension on the pathway to Ascension but hey, it happens to us all. The getting of Wisdom.

Soul retrieval...yeah. I remember many years ago giving myself permission to scream a keening Banshee Berserker shriek for several hours until I passed out from exhaustion. Also the soul retrieval when I visited my childhood home in January 2005.

Then gaining bits and pieces back on the dance floors of vicious viscous grotty pubs and the casino, full of predators and their sycophants. Leaping and twirling my body in triumphant capitulation to the primitive realisation that Mama T was not a Zombie anymore, but an indomitable fierce Berserker warrior goddess with big sore Hobbit feet and attitude!

Like any Wild Woman in dark places I found my vibe and my tribe. Just awesome!

Humbled and grateful, Wild and carefree but greatly loved am I!

21 July 2017

21 July 2016

I woke up happy (for no good reason, which is the best kind of happiness). Hauled out of my bed, had major asthmatic coughing fit but took my Ventolin.

Then ate my key lime pie (2 big pieces!) with a cup of tea for breakfast. I am going to sit in the sun and try to heal my stubborn recalcitrant chest.

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In honour of the eerily warm winter's day, I made recycled paper. Now exhausted but it was nice to be doing something creative.

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This week I decided I will start a business. I don't work well with others and lack skills for most jobs. But I think I will try to save up enough "capital" to rent a small Shop and sell witchy/alternative stuff, read cards, make staffs and wands. Spell kits and you know, just be my usual quirky fabulous self.

It will be a hobby. But you never know I might be successful at it. Now I just need to focus on the how's, and the initial capital investment. Baby steps.

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11.55 pm. Laila Tov. Good night. Sleepy time!

21 July 2015

Dancing 12 hours at the casino is too much for me. Sunday "suspended animation"' slept for 18 hours. Monday night, Bowel Impaction eww but there is an established pattern I must tell my gastro-enterologist about.

This evening, nausea and vomiting. Not as bad as last week but still. It takes me 4-5 days to recover from over-exercising my body on the weekend.

Yesterday that weird lurgy came back so the hot toddies might have brought on the vomiting ie driving the infection out.

Needless to say I am physically a wreck but my body is toned, trimmer and terrific. I might have to just get old gracefully and cut back on the dancing.

One extreme or other, feast or famine, foul weather or fine, depressed or Sublime. I am still the happiest I have been in many decades, even with the medical issues. I promised myself and begged G-d to let me have fun before I die and I have had some wonderful memorable nights out.

Highlights were: being thrown in the air by 4 NZ Naval sailors while my silk skirt billowed like a parachute.

Chair-fighting (like a real Viking Warrior) a pesky determined drunk man who persisted in harassing my friends and then myself when I told him to back off. I almost had him pinned too.

Lifting a tiny man up on my shoulders like an acrobat in my 7 inch high boots (to be fair I was actually a bit tipsy that time, which is rare) as some Aryan giant fascist was humiliating the guy by rubbing his head.

I saw this from across the busy pub dance floor so I shouldered my way through the crowd, said to the guy, "Stand Still, don't move" and hoisted him up over the Aryan's head and said "Rub his fucking ugly bald head now".

The gentle sweet short guy was so stunned he didn't know what to do so, (I was extra strong as I was livid and a bit drunk and he is tiny, the size of a 13 y o boy but a lovely gentle soul) so I shifted his weight on one shoulder and rubbed the fascist bastard's head with my right hand.

Then satisfied, and not totally conscious that I might have embarrassed everyone concerned. I said "There, Bully, see how you fucking like it".

Much later I spoke to the sweet tiny man (who after several years is rather fond of me). I said "I don't know what came over me? I didn't even think. I just reacted. I have PTSD and I hate hate hate Bullies”. Then I burst into tears. He smiled, shook my hand, gave me a hug. He forgave me. What a hero! Putting up with crazy wild women!

He still likes to go to that shit-stained pub though. Even though I don't believe he is safe there. Like me, he likes to fly in the face of Danger I guess. The other sign of a Traumatised person.

We will go to the edge of the known World and Jump, fearlessly, even though there be Dragons there! We just learn to fly on the backs of Dragons, or be raised up by Angelic protectors.

Or as my Maori kin do, we leap from 3 Kings Island to land in another Dimension in the Ancestral Lands of Hawaiiki. We go Home! The Vikings to Valhalla. The Greeks and Romans to Hades, crossing the River Styx and the Christians, Jews and Muslims to Heaven and Life Eternal. Constantly being recycled on the Gilgulim. The ever-turning wheel of life-death-Life, of reincarnation. What appears in the Tarot as "The Wheel of Fortune". Destiny, Fate and/ or Karma.

But I digress: other highlights were Nikki lauching herself full-tilt into my arms when Again I was wearing those extraordinarily high heeled boots. She is tiny but I am a short fat little Hobbit woman so somehow I managed to keep hold of her without both of us falling to the floor (and me possibly busting my ankle lmao).

Sitting outside for hours on warm summer nights with my homeless friends, laughing and talking and keeping it real. I miss Katrina, actually.

Also dancing for hours until the break of dawn with George, my busker friend. Although he put a stop to that last year or I would still be dancing along with him.

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Yesterday Arvo I finally ( after almost 3 years!) cleaned the interior of my car. It took my 4 hours to vacuum every scrap of straw left behind by Ramon and Sookie and all the other crud that accumulates in 3 years. I am so proud of my achievement.

Much later today I plan in washing the exterior which is filthy!

I came inside by 6 pm to discover Lyn had been calling me to invite me to dinner. My little Angel also had gone to the Food Bank and brought me heaps of fruit and veges and bread. She is always looking after me. Love her heaps and I am grateful and happy to have such beautiful friends.

We had Carbonara pasta and Sizzler toast which was delicious. Then we sat outside wrapped up in blankets and talked.

I came home around midnight to discover that the crazy Romanian's old dog Jack was in my yard. I had left my front gates open, not expecting midnight canine visitors.

I freaked out as little Helga and Heidi were not in the coop so I thought he had eaten them. I yelled at him but he is completely blind so I hoped they might still be alive. I made him follow my voice, yelling about his naughty father. Put him inside his own gate. He barked a Thanks.

Socks had followed us across the road so I called him home then shut the gates and went on a search in the fricking dark for Helga and Heidi, fully expecting carnage somewhere.

The silly buggars had gone to sleep behind the Rosemary bush so I scooped them up into my arms, telling them they were lucky to be alive and better learn to go into the coop at night with the other chickens.

Like me, they are creatures of habit and keep trying to sleep near the spot I originally housed them in, near the house. I had forgotten to make sure they were in their coop when I went to Lyn's.

So I was extremely happy and relieved to find my two stupid Fluff Bums huddled together, snoozing.

Old Jack must not have a sense of smell anymore. He is a huge fat cattle dog. If he could see and smell, my girls would have been feasted upon.

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Raging fever, sweating, combined with an epic Chocolate craving! FML. There is always Maccas but that would involve going out in the night cold. Psy Sighs!

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Feeling relieved. I have managed to pay off my electricity and gas bill which always stresses me out. Pay back 2 friends. Thanks guys! Paid Optus. Now just waiting on the missing $150 from Coles Express Fraudsters then I will float along for another 2 weeks.

Living the Psychedelic Dreamer's Dream on a Wish and a prayer and grateful to my friends who help me out in hard times. You Rock!

It feels good to be debt free for another 2 weeks, until the next bill arrives. I have been financially floating on Flotsam and Jetsam for so long that I am a Worn Out Crusty Old Salt! :-)

I have taken a panadol for my epic fever. Gold Fever (no, that was Gold Finger! The Fickle Finger of Fate!) Dreamer is up on her floating garbage pile of a life, surfing. Hopefully I don't end up Shark Bait for a while. That shit was nasty.

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Mushu and Sophie try to climb on my belly and sit in the bath with me. Weirdos

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I just had a lovely Face Chat to Crystal. She sent me photos from her day in London. Will download later as they won't download on my iphone.

She won a lottery ticket to see The Book of Mormon. She saw the National Gallery. Lots of Renoir, Van Gogh and Matisse. She took a selfie next to a painting of her Icon William Shakespeare. She still wants to spend a day at the Globe and has to go to Manchester soon.

She is happy as a pig in mud but she had a bit of a cough too.

I had to go to bed as I have a temperature with the chills. Bloody hell. So lots of rest until next weekend.

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21 July 2014

Wide awake facebooking with my cat Penny purring uproariously next to me. Kookaburras laughing in the distant dawn.

I guess I will fall asleep at the hairdresser again. Might try to get a few more hours kip.

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Constant Craving...Hallelujah. Highs and lows of being in love and alone as usual.

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MONDAYITIS I want to run amok! Hold me back, Babies! :-)

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Lyn drove over to me this morning to bring me bread :-). It was nice to see her smiling face.

My mood has plummeted, no doubt due to not sleeping well last night. PI have some back pain, probably a pinched muscle from all the wild dancing.

It's a beautiful day and in a few hours I will be getting my hair done. That always makes me feel prettier. I hope I don't fall asleep in her chair, like I did the last two times lol.

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Watched True Blood. Awesome! Now watching season 2 of Masters of Sex. Equally Awesome! :-)

21 July 2013

Hmmm so I was feeling slightly indulgent and I added a name I don't know...which I rarely do, due to interesting pics of what seemed an interesting looking man claiming to be both a captain and a sailor (which was red flag number 1, and any salt worth their salt knows that a captain may be a sailor par excellence but very few sailors, make the rank of captain).

So the convo continued briefly until red flag no 2 when he asked me "how is your kids?" no educated English speaking person worth their salt would make such a grammatical error. He then asked me if I were married? I corrected his poor English, told him he sounded like a Ghanaian or Nigerian scammer and who was the real man and how did they steal his identity?

So friends...if a Stephen Kings contacts you...forget that he claims to be in Darlinghurst NSW, or the nice photos of quite a respectable seeming fellow, or the captain of a vessel... he failed to respond to my query. So if he uses my friends list to contact any of you. Be alert and aware.

So much for breaking my number one rule of adding someone I don't know or never met. So irritated right now! I really hate my time being wasted on idiots.

21 July 2010

I spent the day pottering in the garden but didn't achieve much. My energies were too scattered. I did manage to tie up my Jasmine vine and fix the chair it's growing on.

I also tried to waterproof my outside loo, which acts as a flower pot, as it fills up with water when it rains. Not much success there LOL. Jarrod and I and our dogs had a lovely walk at a park and I gathered a Taro tuber for my fishpond.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons