Memories: 21 October 2025

22 October 2025

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1:44 pm I was just regaling the story to my hairdresser about my very first significant rebellion back in 2003 when I got dreadlocks because some elitist vicious sadistic cunts in my former Jewish community mocked and derided me for not upkeeping my foils, as at that time I could barely afford a hairdresser.

Those dreads lasted 6 months until they started breaking off due to my very fine hair. Then I let my younger daughter cut them off, and had turned up to shule with my newly shorn locks which looked like rats had gnawed on my head. I gave no fucks then… and I still give no fucks.

Putting someone down about their poverty and appearance is sadistic. Especially when those women were privileged, wealthy and “leaders” of our community. It was the most venal bullying and/or Othering!!!

So like a wild wolf woman I led by example. I got Jarrod to dread my hair on the very day that I was invited to a coffee evening at the Three Monkeys to square off a former vicious lover and his latest “friend”. It was a set up and I knew it. He had previously informed me that if I got dreadlocks he would never speak to me again. So I did! Happily! Triumphantly! And Victoriously!

I will never forget when the waitress served our coffees and said to me “Wow! New dreads….You look AWESOME! I am so proud of you!” My “friends” all went pale and put their treacherous heads down. It took a waitress in a coffee shop to show them up, with their foul judgements and treachery. Including the casual lying bonk! Haha.

I was 38.

I might have mellowed since then…but anyone who tries to debase me very quickly discovers that I won’t tolerate it…. ever! Especially for those who had professed love and/or friendship.

A woman with nothing to lose is formidable. Her reclamation of her spirit is searingly spectacular at times.

Those were the best 6 months of my life! No one but noone fucks with The Tanya. She’s beautiful and powerful. Not because of the lovely hairdos or the clothes on her back. But because she has fought back from things most other mortals can barely even dream about in their worst nightmares and still finds humour, courage and self-determination in it.

I might still be poor, played for a fool when it comes to love, betrayed, deceived, but I got Me Back and that in itself is a living testament to my strength and Corazon and yes, my power gifted by the gods who knew exactly what was needed and why!

Mass formation psychosis was an ugly reality long before COVID…I had already lived through it many times. It’s how I survived the last bullshit and how I will continue to survive any future bullshit. Belittled or blonded. Fêted or fetid. It makes no difference to me. I will live my life in pride and dignity no matter what, no matter who!

PS the former casual bonk never spoke to me again and it was actually a relief. Nothing worse than a sexual partner who is vicious, destructive and does not have your back. It’s why I value true friends over and above anything. They are rare and precious.

Anything less than that is more dreadful than the Dreads. Mama T has Spoken!!!!

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Hah! I just noticed there is a face in the crud on my boulder opal. Amazing!

Upside down … I see a face facing to the left with a very large ear!

21 October 2024

https://youtu.be/xeKVe8F6MpE

Reading from “Man, Myth and Magic”

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A beautiful day. Although I was still exhausted from the wild dancing on Friday night and Saturday at the Brooklyn Standard’s 10th birthday, I made a video for YouTube.

I cancelled my appointment with my sleep specialist as my AHI levels have gone back down since CPAP Direct changed the mask pressure. So I don’t need the specialist to do a script to change the pressures on the cpap device now.

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So today was a bit weird. I was sitting on my front lounge, making one of my YouTube videos about midday. I was fully dressed with a nice T-shirt and a black skirt but I wasn’t wearing a bra because I wasn’t expecting visitors and I didn’t give a fuck because I’m exhausted from my wild dance on the weekend.

So these two Maori men arrive. They were my house inspectors from housing commission so I had to interrupt my video to let them in, because I actually forgot I had an inspection this morning and if I’d remembered I would’ve worn a fucking bra!

So they look a bit bemused at me and I yelled down from the top of the stairs. “Oh, I forgot all about that I had an inspection today” and they went “Oh, no worries, love”. Anyway, they come up the stairs. They didn’t actually flash their ID either, so it was all a bit weird, quite frankly.

Anyway, I said to them “How come there’s two of you? They used to just send you know, one inspector” and they said “They’ve changed the policy now, we have to go around two of us together”. I said “Why? Is that since the Covid Insanity? Has violence escalated?”

They both go quiet and say “In some areas there’s a lot more violence than others” and I’m just looking at them because I live in a pretty easy going, yuppie kind of neighbourhood. I’m in one of the few housing commission houses still holding out in the neighbourhood, right?

So anyway, they come in but tell me to turn off my TV because they’re gonna turn off the power which was odd so I turn my TV off. Well, it wasn’t even on, but you know they meant turn it off at the switch and then the other man said “No, that’s not necessary” and I went “Oh well, it’s turned off now, whatever” And then one of the men comments on Charlie climbing all over my laptop and he was quite enchanted by Charlie.

Then he checks the smoke alarms and then the other man goes into the bathroom and then opens the bead curtain to look into my studio and sees all my silversmithing equipment. Mind you, I’ve got nothing to hide because it’s a hobby and I’ve been doing it for four years but I haven’t actually sold anything so it’s not like it’s a business or anything, even though I was hoping to turn it into a business one fine day!

So I was waiting for him to say something about that, but nothing was said and then the other man says “I need to look in your linen cupboard to check that you’ve got a sticker” so he did that. It was just so weird having two of them, running around my house.

Then I said to the other man, “Well, I need to show you the crack on the wall…asbestos and the house is cracking”. “Yeah, that’s not good that needs to be fixed” and I said “Look! The house really needs painting. It’s been 21 years I’ve lived here” and so the other man says “Your paint is not too bad internally but we might paint the outside but they won’t do the inside at all, because it’s still okay”.

It’s not, it’s shit…it really badly needs painting so I said to him “You know, I’m an anarchist and a revolutionary”. (I kind of have to laugh because it’s like in my dreams, right) so I tell him I said “Well, in that case if you’re not gonna paint the inside, I’m gonna have to write to politicians but I just ripped them the other day and I told them I hate them All equally so no politician is ever gonna advocate to paint my house now!” Then I laughed with a tinge of bitterness at how I sabotage my own survival to Thrival. Lol!

I said “Now they’ll just be sitting around waiting for me to fall off my perch and just fucking die, so they can sell my house to developers and bulldoze the lot!” The inspectors are laughing. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Tanya” one of them says “Can you give me your phone number?” and I look at him funny. What do they need my fucking phone number for! But like an idiot I gave it to him anyway. In a very robotic voice.

He made some joke about stealing food outta my fridge or something along those lines. I said “Don’t bother my fridge is always empty. I’m gonna die. I can barely afford food” and then he kinda looks at me funny and laughs and he says “Oh, everything is cheaper here in Australia”. I said “Are you mad? It’s not cheaper here. It’s a dystopian nightmare. It’s okay for those of you that have got jobs!”

Anyway, they were both nice fellas. They were younger than me, like I wasn’t flirting with them. They were doing the normal inspection. Anyway, so the other one goes up the back garden. I said “The fences are rotten and need replacing”. He said “Yeah, that’s pretty bad.”

I said it needs doing every 5 to 7 years and I feel sorry for my neighbour because he has to pay for half the fence and so I haven’t said anything because I don’t want him having to fork out again for half of the fence!

He says housing should pay for it all and I said “Well, they don’t. They make him pay half as all the property owners have to pay half”. He said “I’ll have to talk to them at the office about that. I don’t know about that.” I said “Well, either my neighbour’s lying to me that he paid for half the fence, but why would he lie about something like that?” He says “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll have to go back to the office and find out about that”.

They then promise to send someone to clean the guttering, high up on the roof. For which I am grateful as I can’t possibly climb all over the apex of that roof as I would be the unlucky one to fall off!

So the other inspector asks for my mobile number and then he asks me if I have a landline? Which is odd but I said “No, I’ve just had a massive war with Optus that went on for over a month and I finally got rid of the landline which was costing me extra money which I never used anyway so now I only have the mobile”.

Then the other man said “Optus has been really bad” and I said “We’re all under some kind of alien invasion. All the multi-national companies and governments don’t even act human anymore. You don’t know what you’re dealing with, quite frankly, it’s freaking me out”.

I said “I’d have moved to another country or anywhere on planet earth by now, but it’s everywhere globally” and they both kinda looked at me and went “Yeah, where do you go? You’re right… everywhere” and then the man that I think kinda had the hots for me, thinking back on it now, that asked for my number? I hope it was legit and just for business reasons. I hope I don’t get a fucking phone call from him trying to hit on me, cause I’ll be LIVID!

He then says to me “Well, New Zealand’s nearly empty now, they’ve got a massive brain drain 350000 New Zealanders moved over here in the past year!” He said “Soon there will be no one left back home. They’re all coming here for better job prospects and a better living standard”. I said “How is that even possible, because Australia is shit” and he just looks at me in shock.

I say “Really! You have no idea! If you’re poor here, your life is fucking hell!” He just looks at me says “Well, I can see you’ve really looked after this home!” I replied “Yeah, well it’s my home for the past 21 years. It’s my Sacred Space!” He says “Yeah, I saw the sign at your front gate! Alright, love, you’ve been a breath of fresh air, I’ll be in touch!”

And the even funnier thing is I’m sitting here at 7:33 pm in the evening and I’ve only just realised those two little buggers were both actually flirting with me and I am sitting on my couch, laughing my arse off because if they do ring me and it’s not to do with you know…things that need doing for the house but something sexual, I will have to go to fucking war on their heads too!!!

By the way, I’m so exhausted by this. I mean it’s ridiculous but kinda funny, I guess? They were both very sweet but if that was a pisstake on old Mama T, it’s gonna go very very bad. I’m awake now lol!

21 October 2023

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3:46 am home from a great night at Brooklyn Standard. I danced so hard, that I can’t feel my feet. They are throbbing rather painfully. But it was worth it.

I met a lovely vibrant woman in the Queen Street mall on my slow hobble to retrieve my car. She was taking off her high heels and putting on flat shoes. We bonded over that. I wanted to take off my boots but I had nice tights on and didn’t want to ruin them by walking in stockinged feet. Lol. Old me wouldn’t have cared and I used to tear them off anyway. I must be getting prudish in my old age.

Anyway, the woman and I stopped to chat with each other. She was very funny and made me laugh a few times. I told her she had great delivery and should try stand up comedy. She was very clever. I liked her.

But some far too young man came along and they were flirting with each other so I left them to it. I was glad to be going home after my wild night of dancing.

Return to cronedom now begins. Off to Schluff! Laila Tov/boker Tov!

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11:42 am

21 October 2022

Today’s Meshugass (Insanity!) I tore apart an old vintage necklace with wooden beads. I varnished the wooden beads. I am going to make earrings from them.

I also sawed a small sterling silver bowl to make earrings from the silver shapes. Then I made earring holders for my wooden and copper tubing display piece.

Life is obsessive creativity at Titania’s Realm. I am so tired. But satisfied. It’s 4:15 pm. I need to eat something and have a rest. #titaniasrealm #earrings #sterlingsilver #vintage #upcycledjewellery #brisbane #loveisthelaw #magickhappens #nevergivinguponmypsychedelicdreaming

21 October 2021

1:24 pm another storm rolling through. Springtime for Palascuk in Brisbane. Lol. But we can’t blame governments for increased climate change now, can we?

Aber nein…I wasn’t here, I did not do this, I was in Switzerland yodelling when the last European genocide was happening.

I was knitting when Chernobyl happened, I was fucking some hunky man when Fukushima oozed everywhere…get that for me, Deirdre...

It is death, it is Death … it is Covid, it is climate change, it is Oppenheimer’s playground…it is grocery shops’ mandating vaccinations, it is…

L’Chaim. Life. Live well. Live free. As long as you have Breath in your body.

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21 October 2020

Next time I get some Verkachte notion of renovating my mother’s old furniture because you know...recycling, re-use, having pride in my hardwon ridiculous possessions...can someone just give me a bottle of Valium and put me to bed..or shoot me!

Ahh well, maybe another day or two’s work (still Scraping the table top!!!) and this too will end! I don’t even know where I got the power surge of frenetic energy and the motivation from today. It just descended on me like a Superpower. Nuts!!!! The lunatic is not on the grass but has worked hard today.

Hopefully once I can buy the resin and finish these bloody things...I will have at least ten years before I have to do them Again.

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11:51 pm grrr can’t stop scraping. What’s the rush?! It’s not like I can afford the resin for another few weeks anyway!

Honestly I drive myself mad with these weird obsessions.

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How lovely! It’s raining! Just a light drizzle but water from the Heavens is still most welcome!

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21 October 2019

11 days ago I had a tooth filled at the QE 2 hospital dentist. The following day I felt very weak. Then a day later I had pain in the upper jaw next to where the molar was filled

The last few days I have had hot and cold chills, which of course I put down to menopause. Earlier this afternoon I felt so chilled that I went to bed for a few hours, to warm up and to rest. I noticed this evening that my gums are swollen and bleeding. The bone and gum is aching on the lower jaw.

I felt so depressed that I stayed home from going dancing this last weekend. I have had aching joints in my feet and legs too.

I am starting to wonder if it is a reaction to the anaesthetic they used. It seems strange that I have been so symptomatic. I guess if I don’t get an improvement soon, I will have to go back to my doctor.

I am sick of feeling sick after any kind of medical treatment. Especially with my teeth. I can’t bear the prospect of another summer with tooth issues.

Anyway, I find it odd that after getting a filling which should have made me feel better that I actually feel worse. Although my left ear has stopped playing up since the tooth was filled.

Hohum. Another hurdy gurdy ride trying to heal myself.

Update 21 Oct 2020: I had same bad reaction and bullshit sadistic dentistry there a few weeks ago. Epic! Every year at this time. Scary!!

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I woke up this morning fresh from an intense dream. I was leading a group of people around some artsy fartsy shopping village. The buildings were Edwardian-looking architecture with lots of servants’ back stairways and tiny cloistered rooms which had been turned into shops, crammed with unusual art and crafts.

I led my group through room after room, searching for an exit out. I stopped in one gallery and asked for directions. Then we walked past a person sitting on a toilet on the side of a gallery (like not even the toilets!). I was like ...uh excuse me?!!!

They just smiled and seemed quite comfortable with a tour group of shoppers traipsing through their space. One man lagged behind. He walked with a bit of a limp and I had observed he was getting weary. But I soldiered on, weaving my way through the labyrinthine shops and declaiming the fact I could not get us out of there. Or starting to panic.

I finally pushed us into a somewhat crowded room lined with African people. Mostly older men and women. The room was large enough to contain us, although a bit squishy. It was painted white and had an ethereal glow.

I was wearing my purple coat. I picked up some pamphlets which discussed their agenda for their group. Political, or social? I could not make much sense of it.

An older woman approached me with the bearing and confidence of an Elder. “Hello” she said “May I help you!”

“Why yes, I am Sorry to interrupt your meeting but we are trying to get out of this building and so far have only found ourselves more lost!”

She smiled patiently and replied “I like your Coat! That colour is very meaningful to my people!” I smiled back “It is the colour of Mother Africa!” She smiled “Ahhh, you Knoww! If you wish to leave, go down this back stairway and you will find a large field!”

“Thank you” I said. My group followed eagerly behind me.

We get out onto the field and I am again perplexed. It is full of mud and African teenage boys are leaping into deep muddy puddles. How deep are those ditches? Can I get my group through it? I look at the older man with his stiff leg. He can’t make it. At the end of the field is a steep hill. Too slippery for him to navigate. But I push on.

The women with lovely shoes start to complain about the mud and slush. “Shush” I reply, “Take the fucking shoes off. It’s only mud.” The children in our group run along merrily. I smile at their freedom from Societal morés and their bravery and innocence.

We reach the steep hill and I start climbing, pulling myself up with tree branches and tussocks of grass. Single-mindedly focused on reaching the top and marching on to the other side (where are we going??? No idea!)

But I hear a splash and a kinda thump behind me. Omg. The old guy has fallen into a deep muddy ditch. I watch him as he gives up and resigns himself to a muddy exhausted death. He literally rolls over in the mud and goes Foetal, half floating, half drowning.

I scream “Dad...dad.” (This man looks nothing like my father, if anything he looks a bit like Jarrod and a bit like an old friend John Bradley. Tall, slim, good looking and reasonably young looking except for his weakness and his gammy leg.)

“Someone help him!” But the women in my group just stare slackjawed, feeling helpless. So I lurch back down that hill, running and slipping in the mud. I start pulling the man out of the pool of water. “Leave me, let me die”, he says.

I cannot leave him to die. He is too precious to me. This “dad” I never had. I look up to my group. “Keep climbing! Without me”. I wring my hands and wake up with the smoking imagery of despair still swirling around my consciousness.

That man was not my Dad. Who was he? Why would I not leave him? For brief moments I thought of my own father and how we became estranged because of his sexual harassment and betrayals with Gisela and Buck.

I felt sad that I had abandoned him when he was frail and old and weak but he was not safe to have in my home or near my daughters. Then 17 years later he died of sepsis as a homeless person in a hostel in Shepparton as no one fucking bothered to take him to hospital in that “Home” either. No one had ever treated him with any duty of care.

But I grudgingly accepted his ashes and placed them with my mother and Cees’s at King Island. The predators and vermin belonged with each other.

In the first moments of waking I almost felt sad that I had not felt this burning love for my father as I did in this dream. Enough to want to save him. But I was already burnt out from the will dispute and from caring about my monstrous mother during her time in the Alzheimers unit.

Also to be fair to myself, I had loved my father with a blazing burning love until I was 20 when he groped my pregnant breasts. Then the love turned to mottled dust in my chest. I had loved my Abusers too much and for too long.

I owe those progenitors nothing except for my life which they did everything in their power both alive and dead…to destroy.

So where does that leave me now? Facing my own oblivion as I am unable to gain real authentic love and battling another depression after losing pets and fighting for my own intrinsic ridiculous Survival in recent months.

But like my alter ego in the dream, I will keep pushing through mud, filth, high water, tempests, my own broken heart and broken dreams and aging body. Push and push and push as a Mustang Kwe. Keep fighting for myself and my divine right to a beautiful life.

Maybe I will meet the Love of my life one day. But it’s hard to love the traumatised and kintsugied ones. We are so circumspect and battle worn and weary and wary and a tad prickly.

On a lighter note FB algorithms every day show me events with one man’s name from my friends list. A man I barely know but I do know has a girlfriend. Ergo, unavailable lmao!

I find it hilarious as when I click on the events page his name is only in a few of them. I suppose he must be active on FB and that is why the little spying bots throw him at me every morning. For a moment I got paranoid and thought FB had become a Jewish Yenta matchmaker.

Although this man is not jewish and I am hardly Jewish anymore either. So that makes it even more bizarre.

Facebook! Stop with the matchmaking! Even the Jewish community never included me with that (I was deemed too old ie no longer childbearing!) and too crazy, and let’s face it with that nasty Nazi libel hanging over my head like the Sword of Damocles, I was never fully accepted or respected!

Instead the Jewish men that came into my life as lovers, were vicious murderers and inveterate womanisers who tried to kill me in more ways than one. So even in my 30s I gave up on love. Who can blame me when every relationship turned into vile pustulant shit?

It has taken me 54 years and 20 years of therapy to heal from it all. 54 years to hope against hope that someone might truly love me one day.

Absurdist. So FB matchmaker...let me make my own choices. I like my freedom and yes, I like to choose my own lovers. My mistakes must always be my own. That is how I learn and grow.

The last man I fell in love with was Sabotaged. Sabotaged by my friends and by no doubt, his friends. Sabotaged by his own fear and sabotaged by my own doubts. But he was not the man for me. He did not choose me. He played cruel school boy games and he tried to play me for a fool.

He was a nice man. (I thought so!). But weak. It takes a strong man to stand up to his tribe of vicious howling hyenas and say “Tanya is my woman. No matter what!” I get it. I was not loved enough. Againnn. (Yawns!). Nu? So what else is new?

6 years later so...let him spy from across the Livewire bar. Feed his fertile fascination. Or sit with other partners at drumming circles. (The closest contact he has dared make in several years...poor lad!). Let him send his energy signature days or weeks before his cyclic look-see at the Woman who loved him but he dishonoured.

The saddest part is I love him. And verily he loved me. However briefly. Something vastly evil and capricious was at play. Ancient curses and misbegotten timelines. But I am healing. Always limitlessly healing.

So this morning I have nightmares about neglecting and abandoning my father (or in the dreamscape someone’s father). But I am the one that was abused, neglected, abandoned and betrayed. Thousands of times.

Not even Death would claim me for his own sweet love. He had already sent messengers in the form of former partners, dis-ease from all the grief and horror, actual illnesses from grinding my own gears (and teeth!) since early childhood molestations and violations.

False friends by the dozens. And a society that never once stood by me or protected me or defended me until eventually I ended up cast aside on a disability pension so they could whip me even more for my mental Illness and inability to thrive.

So the dead Zombified Tanya went dancing. Like the girl in the red shoes, dancing and fighting, cussing and laughing to her own Oblivion.

But there will be no oblivion. No peace. No respite. I am cast back down by the gods to dream the dream of Love and plight my Troth to the Truth.

Little broken girls with blood in their eye and metal in their veins deserve respect and honour and protection.

The End.

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21 October 2018

Whoa...here she comes...rain and Donna and blitzen. That should settle a few people.

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Gifts from Sacred Space! No money, no love but the time I invested in my garden during many years of grief is rewarding me beautifully.

As Lyn once wisely said to me: who knows what glorious seeds I have “planted” in my time spent in the night might one day come to flourish? The seeds are germinating and sprouting and pushing through the darkness and the muck. The rains shall purify and fertilise and all shall be in full bloom again.

21 October 2017

Last night, as I was riding the escalator at the casino I was standing behind two men. I overheard the taller one turn to his friend and say "I am gonna be swamped by sluts tonight. It is gonna be epic". His mate chortled along, encouraging him. I too giggled, thinking 'yeah right'.

Well as life will have it, being a great teacher… the tall red-headed buffoon lumbered over to me on my 'spot'. Sat down in front of me on the stage. Declared "I am gonna sit right here". I thought briefly then remembered every woman who was ever sexually assaulted/raped or humiliated for being thought of as a slut. I leaned over to epic creepy desperate douchebag.

"Oh no dude, you will not ever sit here. I heard you on the escalator calling women Sluts. If you ever think in your wildest dreams you will hook up with me or any of my women friends then you can think again. I will not allow any woman to bother with a man who calls us Sluts. So buggar off".

He answered back, rather peevishly. "It wasn't me. It was my friend".

I grew even angrier. "Nah, it was you! All you". He scarpered back to the opposite end of the dance floor. Shaken but not stirred. His friend joined him and he told him what I said. I turned away and kept dancing. Message sent.

Then the friend decided to come over to dance near me. Hahahaha. Trying to make himself out to be good guy. I ignored him totally. He hung around my aura for a while then slunk back over to his friend.

Rape Culture. Stops, when you call them out on it. No sluts were swamping him. That was his punishment for being a putrid ugly little soul.

Later in the night one of the regulars who is a creepy kiwi guy came up to me. "You suck!" I rolled my eyes. Then batted him away with my opened fan, shooing him away from me with an exaggerated expression of contempt. He moved his arse away real fast. Yup I suck. Heaps. Hoover it, babies.

My friend Adam bought me drinks and I was glad of his presence beside me. Luke demanded I scratch his back most of the night. When I felt like obliging him I did so, playing on his back like a stringed guitar. He loves it. Only tactile touch he welcomes.

Occasionally when I wanted a break from him I would grab him in a firm bearhug around his shoulders. Then he would gasp and run away for a while. Haha. Adam just laughed. I told Luke he is hard work. Worse than being married.

Occasionally I asked him to scratch my back (only fair and equal). So he did. He may be onto something. It did feel good to have some non-sexual scratching of a long-sustained itch. He is a good man. We both know we are safe with each other.

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I shall miss watching a big screen tv when Crystal reclaims this one in January. 😞.

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It's raining again! (My rain dance worked wonders! ). Maybe I should do a Life Partner Dance? Might get a real one for a change.

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5 hours sleep. Big night of epic dark clowning/dancing last night.

Exhausted but I have moved my body!

I had a wonderful time dancing with Catherine and later in the night with Luke, Sigal and others. Oh wow!

21 October 2016

Crystal, living with a self-proclaimed Sociopath, and both of them pressing my buttons on Monday has caused another weird little breakdown. It is now Friday. My emotions are cascading like crushing Tectonic plates. But...here is the big buttt. I have been very funny. Very funny indeed. The gods are watching and bringing certain people into perfect alignment.

Kali the Hindu goddess. Brighid the celtic. Shechinah, the Jewish feminine presence. The divine feminine is with me this week and like all Mothers of creation and destruction she will suffer no fools. I shudder to think what She has in store for me next.

So far. So good. I am at the mercy of the gods but as always, am their chosen servant with messages of validation.

Hear me, Ye unbelievers, those of little faith. Live as if everything is a miracle or nothing is a miracle but I may kindly suggest, if you intend to destroy me, get out of my way. For I take no prisoners on my slip-sliding highway to hell and my slow stumbling climb up Jacob's ladder to Heaven.

In-between we have earthlings and lesser daemons to contend with.

My true love is atheist and often an arsehole too but shhhh. He thinks he is training me or taming me. Sweet really. The wormèd creature flies in the face of men's abuse and ignoble ego.

She keeps abreast of the situation. She prays, plays and slays. With only one goal in sight. To be Love. Or die trying!

Update 21 Oct 2019: The self-proclaimed sociopath ditched my girl 2 weeks later. I was so relieved. She deserves a kind decent man. As do we all.

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Shabbat is coming! (To dance or not to dance on my customary Oneg Shabbat? No money. Plenty of time. But a bit squidgy this week!(My feet only stopped hurting from last week's celebrations of my life and honesty).

What do the gods of Life and Love hold for me? How much longer can this go on? What is it they really hope for me to achieve? Stomping my mojo into a certain "Spot" in a certain den of iniquity on the holiest night of the week.

I achieve pleasure amidst the pain. Affection from my few friends. Admiration and awe from the rest. Exhaustion. Combustion. Ablutions to the gods. (Ahem, sweet smooth lovin' Tennessee man Mr Jack Daniels followed by early morning kisses from a Jack-Shit named Beauregard.)

Happiness which is dredged up from the bowels of my soul (later to be purged). Triumph over my own suffering, loss, lack and abandonment issues. The kindness of strangers. True love for its own sake as that is the only kind worth having.

Friendship. Faith. Fickle fingering of fate's frothy furloughs. Laughter in the face of my own misery. Then glorious sleep. For days and days. Then up on my feet to do it all again. My small window period before I get too old or too sick.

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A powerful woman = alone

But also = Beauty

Integrity

Truth

Courage

Honour

The path of the wild and the wise woman. A force to be reckoned with. She has been violated, besmirched, cheated on, slandered, lied to, raped, strangled, stolen from, hated hated hated. But the path of a righteous woman is beset by the torments of the damned and still she stands in her own light and Love.

Surely goodness and compassion will follow her all the days of her life until the last clarion call.

Surely, if she is Blessed then the man who sees her darkness will also see her Light and love her completely, without fear or doubts, without deception.

May she merit to see that day in the ever-present Now. Joyous. Loving. Safe in the arms of one who sees her and loves anyway. Amen v'selah.

21 October 2015

When I was very young, I was afraid. Afraid of my mother, my father, my sister, my stepfather and my god-father. Paedophiles and their enablers.

I went to school and was forced to fear other children, and teachers, then on to university, more bullying, humiliation, fear, then marriage, more mental/emotional and financial abuse, so more fear.

They even made me fear my own self, my mind, brought me to fear premature death and inability to protect my children. Then I separated and they perpetrated greater fear through organised violence.

Then they robbed me of homes, money and security. Harried me through 8 homes until at last I came here.

Now I am utterly Fearless. A force of nature, a train wreck of iron will and steely gut. My abusers tried to kill any hope of Love in me. I loved anyway. They tried to beat me down to brink of suicide. I lived anyway. Guess what? Don't like it? Fuck off.

My mission on this planet is a hearty addiction to the Truth. I have no other riches than Love, Light and Truth. My train keeps on rolling. Even with a loose caboose and an over-heated engine. Watch out cos this Bitch might just Blow!!! ( not how you like it Fellas ;-) )

Lyn Sloane: You always DID protect your children. I know your life was a mess, however, your cubs were always front and centre. The only thing you couldn't protect them from was when they came of age to see how you were treated.

Me: Thanks Lyn! Hugs!

One of my greatest fears was that I might not be able to keep them and me safe. It became a self-professing prophecy when they witnessed me being strangled by Terry. Jasmine jumped on his back to try to get him off me.

So began her gradual hatred and detachment from me. They should never have been exposed to that. I blame myself. Too much harm was done to us as a family of women.

Thank g-d for my beautiful friends who helped me get away from those situations. It took many many years but I finally have some measure of peace.

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Happy as a pig in mud even though I only had 5 hours sleep. Been to see my Shrinkola. Wonderful man! I feel so supported. Now eating Japanese curry at Garbo then off home for a nap methinks.

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I have been over to John's to meet Miss Daisy. 10 weeks old. Missing her mother. So I brought over the remaining Meadow Hay left over from Ramón and Sookie. She started eating it right away. John got her because Jack has died. Poor old Jack! He was a lovely old dog.

My neighbour Warren ( the elitist prick) has already threatened to call the council. Nut job. Everyone else is happy about the wee girl! She doesn't make that much noise. Far out! People are so weird!

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1.49 am Yesterday I made pancakes and was rather bemused when I flipped one into my plate to see a shape made by the coconut oil on the batter. It was the Eitz Chaim. The Tree of life.

I almost took a photo of it but it seemed a pretty crazy thing to do, you know like religious christians who see Jesus in toast! Nu? This Jewish woman sees Trees! Does that mean I need to hug one?

The tree of Life represents eternity, balance, the Torah with all her ways of pleasantness which lead to peace. What else? Coming into fruition, ripening, then harvesting then ultimately dying to feed the Earth and become another tree.

I think I ate the pancake with the tree. I have absorbed and digested the symbol of a good loving peaceful life. Perhaps this was the portent. I hope there is more where that came from. I love when the Universe has my back!!! Thank you Adonai and my protecting loving Angels. Without you I am non-existent.

21 October 2014

I have fixed my fenceline. To keep my chooks safe. I am also ready for a pomeranian :-). Just...need....money! Lol!

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8.48pm. I just woke up from a long nap. I felt rather fragile again.

First with Wiglet disappointing me (nothing new there!) then with dentist.The anaesthetic has worn off. I am not too sore though. I have 2 or 3 more old fillings to be replaced and I will be back in chopper chomper heaven.

I have been quite unwell for the past 2 months so it will be interesting to see if having sound teeth makes a difference.

Well I will get up, eat dinner, dream of wine, chocolate and romance (none of which I have got!) and watch tv and work on my case.

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Home from Murder House QE 2 dentist. I had a nice Indian woman dentist who is shy but gentle.

Now home, lying in my hammock and feeling the anaesthetic kick in. My mouth is now quite numb. Oh dear.

Eating nuts on left side of my mouth cos I can and I am rebellious like that. Also drinking Ginger Beer. (Can't get enough of that lately. Body must need it!)

My chooks are talking to me and fussing around my hammock. I also had a visit from my "pet" crow who was inspecting the dead toad which I suspect he had a hand in terminating. Icky!

My animals are comforting me in my time of sadness. Life is beautiful!

Debz Bell: did ya get a visit from mofo lol

Me: Yup, he cleaned out all the mulch from falling leaves and left them in piles down side of the house. I threw my Birkenstocks at him (Terrorist Hippy Mama!) but he flipped me his bird and alighted on the shed roof. Psy Sighs.

Debz Bell: hahahahaha if a woman throws her birkenstocks shes really mad lol you must be way out in the country>????

Me: Nup, 10 mins south if the city. In suburbia.

Debz: wow that close to town and you get turkeys wandering around lol too much lol

Me: I live at the foot of a forest, Whites Hill Reserve. Why I am so pissed off with the Mofo Turkey. He has an entire forest to nest in, but no, he picks me to move in with. "supermarket fucker" wants easy pickings from my food supply rather than scrounge in the forest.

I can't really blame him. I like a nice smorgasbord laid on myself. Nothing like a free meal and the generousity of strangers. Forconce the Official Schnorrer has been out-schnorrerred! He is doing weird things to my garden but I think I will let him live here. As long as he doesn't rape or attack my chickens, cats or me.

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3.27 am. In bed. With my cat. Getting my hand licked. (Penny Kisses!)

Awesome.

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3.11 am. Listening to tv talking about wine tastings. Now I crave Wine. Rather have a Jack Daniels and Coke.

I have some in the fridge but no JD. No chocolate either. I ate it all in the last few days.

Now I have even more reason to be fucking depressed!

Better go to bed and try to dream away my sorrows.

21 October 2013

Bad pain in my jaw. But heading back out for Dr Harry Smith's Minyan. Busy day.

21 October 2011

I slept until late then summoned up a lot of energy from somewhere and weeded garden, dug out more bindii patches, watered garden, cut down 3 banana trees, cut them up to throw them in compost. Now completely exhausted and ready for an early night!

21 October 2010

I did lots of grounding today, shovelling all Buck's nasty letters etc that had finally turned into lovely compost on to my garden. Looking forward to seeing beautiful results come from all that ugliness!

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"The Beast" lives again. She's going to the Mechanic on Thursday. A big Thank You to Lyn who organised this for me. We will "keep my head above water" as long as the water doesn't reach my armpit we will be fine. (Hollow laugh from the Headless Cat Woman of Holland Park).

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I have experienced a lot of losses this year. My mother dying, family conflicts, will disputes which are endless, followed closely by the loss of trust in my former Rabbi, then my psychiatrist being forced into retirement (I miss him so much!), then my relationship with my boyfriend hit the skids (this latest came as quite a shock!), now family conflicts (again!)

I tell you, I don't want sympathy this is just a condensed version of the constant bullshit that has been my life, but can I hear an "OY!!!!"?

I mean, I feel so bad I feel like my head has been cut off and I'm carrying it around under my arm. (This means I am literally Beside Myself, or out of my mind! LOL)

Sylvia Shine: c'mon tanya,your name,is nor marie antoinete,.it's tanya arons,proper day's,are ca-coming ,he4ad up high,chinny chin,jutting out patience is a virtue x x x x x x x x sylvia

Me: OH let them eat cake! The poor woman lost her head because she was out of touch with the French Public of the day. Also the slight technical hitch of being married to Louis XV (or was it Quatorze?). Anyway Sylvia, it's hard to hold your head up when it's stuffed and smelling one's BO. No wonder I feel awful.

Thanks for the pep talk though, sweetie. I've been waiting for Proper Days to come for a very very long time. Who knows Maybe The Nameless One might smile on me yet? Or keep me in the cheese factory. No wonder I have a lot of cats. Keeps the Meeces at bay! Love ya Sylvia! xxxx Hugs!

21 October 2009

Contemplating the possibility of developing a vaccine for Herpes Simplex...I am so sick of my face breaking out at the slightest sign of stress. They can put a man on the moon but they can't kill off these nasty viruses....go figure!

Adrian Shine: old pharmacist cure:-boil your head in bubbling nitric acid for 30 minutes at 100 celcius.Guaranteed to work

Adam Broit: or put your head in dettol, Badedas and chicken soup, say 3 hail maries and hope for the best..

Me: lol not sure about the hail marys, will 3 Bloody Mary's help? only I'm not that keen on Tomato juice!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons