Memories: 23 September 2025

23 September 2025

8:13 am I worked so hard yesterday, digging up bindiis that I have sprained my wrist. Oh well. I had a good sleep. Up and at ‘em. Lots more weeding to do…it’s killing me but I refuse to put down poison on my land. I also cut back some of the dragon fruit which is immense and filled the garden bin. Lots more to do cutting that back too.

It was thick and luscious and might have fruited this year. (It never fruits but the flowers are still wonderful) so I felt sad, butchering it back. But it’s taking over and climbing up the house so it has to go. (I say this every time then I let it grow wild and rampant again). It’s symbolic of my own frenetic determined stoic will to live and thrive and stay alive and jive turkey my hide.

I still have a huge clump of heliconias to cut back too. I haven’t gardened much in the past two years so it’s long past time I knuckled down.

It felt good to be outside, listening to podcasts while clawing at the ground. Anyway, here we are again. Another day in paradise, or planet hellscape according to your will/desire/experiential awareness.

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When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares right back at you” true! When you are “touched” by the supranatural you are never the same again. Hold the line…those of you who wilfully invited this Thing into your bodies. You are going to have to fight daily and nightly for your human -ness. If it’s not already too late.

I had an entity coming to my bedroom and climbing across my bed a few months ago. When I cast it out, it said “you reject me now Tanya just when I am getting so close to you?” I have a fairly good idea who transmitted that foul spirit.

They sought control or dominion over my body, mind, Spirit. Their human “host” once said to me “I love your power” which was my first major red flag that this man was fully invaded or infested. But I pushed that gnosis down because I loved him. “Know Thy Enemy” .

A trickster spirit or a possessed person delights in stealing energy or power. In tainting souls. They are the epitome of psychic vampyre. I gave him and many of his friends my energy freely, from a deep resource of authentic love. Those who know …knowww.

Even his best friend begged me to help him (in a mild trance after hours of performance). My good man, I love you but I can’t help you. Or anyone. This is a spiritual war escalated by the covid bio-engineering. Every hand on deck. You must be conscious of your own demons and those you call “friends” and of their willingness to utterly destroy you for having the courage to stand in your own authority.

Only the ancient primordial gods (the Creator) can save your souls now. Guard it well…your Soul.

Those demons use your childhood wounds to predate on you. The human need for love, connection and belonging. Do not be afraid to walk/dance, play, pray, exist Alone.

In a world gone rancid that is the only way to survive. Gift your time and energy ONLY to those humans that treat you with genuine kindness and respect. Slough the rest of the dirty treacherous self immolating motherfuckers off. Mama T has Spoken!

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23 September 2024

A gorgeous morning. I woke up at 6:30 am. I had a bit of a rough night with my bladder but eventually settled down around 2 am. So I am a bit astonished to be so alert this early.

I had a lovely time at West End drumming yesterday afternoon. At first it was just Belinda, Bill and I but then a young couple came along and joined in with us. I was very impressed by their sweetness. It turns out it was their first date.

How cute they chose to spend time with us older folks, playing drums and percussion instruments and chatting with us! Delightful. I “followed” Kamania on Instagram as I thought she was so lovely.

Then I came home and worked on my spinning wheel. I am getting better at spinning but the treadle won’t work so I need to figure out what has gone wrong. I put some more 3 in one oil but it still wouldn’t work properly. Oh well…baby steps.

With Belinda’s advice I fixed the problem with the brake so the spun wool threads on the bobbin automatically again. That was great!

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23 September 2023

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https://youtu.be/TP2QBzr6qDQ?si=pqSznUBL-nxCGHKY

23 September 2022

I am seriously loving Bad Sisters on Apple TV. Dark and quirky.

23 September 2021

Some earrings I made today.

23 September 2020

4:23 am no sleep tonight. Oh well. I have been thinking about the encounter I had yesterday at Bunnings. I drove straight to the Acacia Ridge Bunnings after the dentist. It was a hot day yesterday. I was feeling zoned out from the heat and the stress of two fillings.

I went straight to the section that displays all the varnishes. I had anticipated buying a Marine one as I thought it would last longer.

I had the other brand of varnish in one hand (the one I have been using on the dining table) and a Feast and Watson marine brand in my other hand.

I was reading all the information on both tins. Agonising on which to buy, which I really needed most, which would do the right job.

I was there at least 15 minutes, at one point completely zoned out in disassociation as I could not decide how to proceed so my brain literally spun on a dime.

Finally after what seemed eons, I sensed someone watching me. I looked back and there was a young Maori woman employee. She sorta stared at me for a few moments longer almost surprised that I had seen her. I must have looked either like a potential Shoplifter or a crazy person!

She asked me if she could help me? I was actually relieved. I explained that I was trying to decide which varnish to buy for my camphor laurel slab as I had had to strip it back as the varnish had gone tacky after 17 years and it was a bloody big job.

She told me 17 years was a long time for varnish to last. That marine varnish was not good to use on interior wood as it is oil based and would sink into the timber. She recommended I stick with the water based gloss one I was already intending to buy and use that on both tables. It was more environmentally friendly too.

So I did that then asked where the sandpaper aisle was? So then I sauntered over to that section and got lost in confusion again.

I eventually bought some small sheets for my hand sander. (By this stage not even sure I needed them!) then I got lost trying to decide what glue to buy to affix my crystals back on my staff.

At some point I told myself off (mentally!) that I should not go shopping after the dentist as my mind was just leaking like a colander and I was starting to feel faint. It was a very strange sensation. Neither here nor there. But I pushed through it.

I found the nice young Maori woman again and we stopped to chat. Her colleagues in the paint mixing section were openly glaring at us after our chat about her coming from Tauranga and newly migrated here with a 6 month baby and just starting back at work. I mentioned I had been to Tauranga in 1987 (Jasmine was 3 months old!)

She was a truly lovely kind gentle young woman and without knowing it, really anchored me in that store with my struggles to choose the right varnish and my brain vanishing all over the place. But I worried she might get into trouble with her coworkers so I left to go to the self service checkout.

A young black African woman was in attendance there. She too was very kind to me as I accidentally put the varnish through twice so she had to void it.

I complimented her on her lovely earrings. Then got in my car and drove home (with bouts of road rage as there was some idiot on the return trip who squeezed me out of a merging lane!)

But the staff had been very kind to me so that was pleasant. Also the admin lady at QE2 hospital dentist is super friendly which is a welcome change from the awful miserable condescending staff they used to have there.

Anyway I came home, unpacked my few groceries I had bought at Aldi prior to going to the dentist. Changed the filter in my fishpond, then spent the next few hours lying on the ground, pulling out the “Mother of Millions” succulent weeds that has taken over large areas of my front garden.

This is how I noticed the builder lad eyeing me off. Jesus!

Anyway the day was very strange. I had a lovely chat in the evening with Nigel, then cooked dinner then spent the rest of night and early hours of this morning watching tv shows.

Then attempted sleep. No dice!

Outside my window (now 4:49 am) I hear the morning chorus of birds waking up for their day! I even heard Possum returning across my roof, no doubt to her possum box. Sweet girl!

This sweet lunatic, who is obsessing over past trivialities with schlocky men and with the current kindnesses of strangers because my Streetcar of Desire has in true Désirée Fashion fucking derailed herself with major trauma activation may never sleep again! (Hyperbole, as I am sure to pass out sometime today. My body will just shut me off like in the good old days when it made me sleep 20 hours a day!)

By the way, as an aside...an Asinine perspicacious confoundingly but confusing Aside...The Tanya is Happy.

23 September 2019

1:06 pm. Funny sort of day. Yesterday I was a bit “incongruent”. Today I have showered, shaved my legs, washed my hair. I even bathed the dog. (He was not really thrilled about that!) so I achieved some basic hygiene. Then got triggered by Nazi shit again.

I am going to miss Jarrod’s Monday visits as he has work now. It was a nice way to come back to reality after some of my wild and uncanny weekends.

But, “Plus ça change plus c’est la meme chose”. I will adapt.

We are still going to Byron Bay on Monday next week in honour of his birthday. Crystal had organised a huge surprise for him and I will spend time on the beach with my Beau. Hopefully it’s not bluebottle season yet. Also I hope I feel well enough on the day.

I am looking forward to cleansing my energy meridians in the ocean there. It’s been many months since I last swam in the ocean. No wonder I am quietly going maddd!

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Watching Ancient Aliens. Amazing!

23 September 2018

Trigger warning: harassment, stalking.

5 hours sleep. It’s a glorious day. I am lying in my hammock thinking about the video I posted about humility. About my last friend who insisted my destiny on earth was Modesty. (She who wore very short skirts and competed with me for the attentions of potential lovers when she had a man to go home to!). Modesty??! Modesty?

Another narcissist abuser wanting me to debase myself so she could feel good about herself. Wanting me to play small in my already shattered life.

I make myself small for no one. I have crawled in the gravel pit for decades. It took my own suicide attempt to finally realise how unique and beautiful and needed I was. In my own fugue state I exhibited “service to others” and advocated for another patient. This is not the merits of a small, weak or selfish person. Although it is perfectly okay to be selfish at times.

Last night one of my vile stalkers approached me. He who caused me three months of tmj pain last year as I refrained from hitting him when he refused to leave me alone. Last year he harassed me for 5 long hours. But I was “modest” and contained my rage to my own pain and dereliction of duty to protecting my face and sacred space.

So that man comes over to harass me again last night. “Go away” I say. He prances like a show pony on acid. Thinks he’s funny. Thinks he can keep stalking and harassing me. A second time, I calmly say “Go away”. Firm. Polite. Not even swearing at him as is my usual Default state. So he moves in on me again.

I am sitting down. Dignified. Perhaps even modest. But I have had enough of humility. Of taking shit and bile and other people’s vomitous vile disrespect. My foot kicks up and makes contact with his genitals. Omg. He is fortunate I was wearing flat sandals last night. Even through my flat soles (and flattened soul?!) I could feel the tiny flaccid penis and his doughboys.

Finally he leaves me and returns to the table where the other voyeurish men love to watch from. Disgusting creep.

I waited for security to ask me to leave but for once they demurred. After all that particular man has been actively harassing me for several years now. Almost every weekend. Ghastly.

The former friend who wanted me to be Modest? Well, she copied everything I did and said. Right down to my glitter eyeshadow and the way I wear my hair, my corsets and my strength.

She soaked up even my mode of speech. Even wrote a story for a course using names of people I worked with years ago, that I had told her interesting stories. She stuffed herself on my unfulfilled glory and story. Then to up the ante went after a man I had shown some interest in. Disloyal and disrespectful to me and her own partner and her own self. It cost her a friendship.

I shall not be humbled by people who are spiteful, envious, superficial, false. I have taken 53 years to develop my life like a photograph from a black and blurry negative to publish myself in Kodachrome: fully fleshed, embodied, vitally Alive and aware.

I have suffered enough feelings of trauma, betrayals, cheap tricks, inability to succeed while being hammered by abusive friends/family/lovers to ever let anyone make me humble again.

As a child of the universe, an astonishing creation of capricious and often vicious gods, I know, dear god and goddess I KNOW! I deserve better than that.

There’s a mushroom in a corner of Sacred Space that needs to feed on someone else’s light and muck and rich compost. That needs to grow her own potential. Needs to develop her own personality. But narcissism is a grandiose illness. Envy is so debilitating. Live your own truth and life and watch everything blossom and unfurl.

I might have no choice but to live modestly but I will not allow abusers into my inner world.

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I have had a lovely afternoon, chatting to old friends: Sherry, Lyn and Margaret. Just wonderful. :-)

23 September 2017

Home from an awesome night. Utterly exhausted. My eyes are blurred. Feet sore. But I had a wonderful time.

Blessed to be alive, free and surrounded by loving friends.

Now unfurling my tired and sore muscles in a hot bath and drinking tea and contemplating my impending sleep. Yummy!

….

5 hours sleep. It’s a glorious day. I am lying in my hammock thinking about the video I posted about humility. About my last friend who insisted my destiny on earth was Modesty. (She who wore very short skirts and competed with me for the attentions of potential lovers when she had a man to go home to!). Modesty??! Modesty?

Another narcissist abuser wanting me to debase myself so she could feel good about herself. Wanting me to play small in my already shattered life.

I make myself small for no one. I have crawled in the gravel pit for decades. It took my own suicide attempt to finally realise how unique and beautiful and needed I was. In my own fugue state I exhibited “service to others” and advocated for another patient. This is not the merits of a small, weak or selfish person. Although it is perfectly okay to be selfish at times.

Last night one of my vile stalkers approached me. He who caused me three months of tmj pain last year as I refrained from hitting him when he refused to leave me alone. Last year he harassed me for 5 long hours. But I was “modest” and contained my rage to my own pain and dereliction of duty to protecting my face and sacred space.

So that man comes over to harass me again last night. “Go away” I say. He prances like a show pony on acid. Thinks he’s funny. Thinks he can keep stalking and harassing me. A second time, I calmly say “Go away”. Firm. Polite. Not even swearing at him as is my usual Default state. So he moves in on me again.

I am sitting down. Dignified. Perhaps even modest. But I have had enough of humility. Of taking shit and bile and other people’s vomitous vile disrespect. My foot kicks up and makes contact with his genitals. Omg. He is fortunate I was wearing flat sandals last night. Even through my flat soles (and flattened soul?!) I could feel the tiny flaccid penis and his doughboys.

Finally he leaves me and returns to the table where the other voyeurish men love to watch from. Disgusting creep.

I waited for security to ask me to leave but for once they demurred. After all that particular man has been actively harassing me for several years now. Almost every weekend. Ghastly.

The former friend who wanted me to be Modest? Well, she copied everything I did and said. Right down to my glitter eyeshadow and the way I wear my hair, my corsets and my strength. She soaked up even my mode of speech. Even wrote a story for a course using names of people I worked with years ago, that I had told her interesting stories.

She stuffed herself on my unfulfilled glory and story. Then to up the ante, went after a man I had shown some interest in. Disloyal and disrespectful to me and her own partner and her own self. It cost her a friendship.

I shall not be humbled by people who are spiteful, envious, superficial, false. I have taken 53 years to develop my life like a photograph from a black and blurry negative to publish myself in Kodachrome: fully fleshed, embodied, vitally Alive and aware.

I have suffered enough feelings of trauma, betrayals, cheap tricks, inability to succeed while being hammered by abusive friends/family/lovers to ever let anyone make me humble again.

As a child of the universe, an astonishing creation of capricious and often vicious gods, I know, dear god and goddess I KNOW! I deserve better than that.

There’s a mushroom in a corner of Sacred Space that needs to feed on someone else’s light and muck and rich compost. That needs to grow her own potential. Needs to develop her own personality. But narcissism is a grandiose illness. Envy is so debilitating. Live your own truth and life and watch everything blossom and unfurl.

I might have no choice but to live modestly but I will not allow abusers into my inner world.

…

My friend and her family are home safe from Bali. Phew. So happy they are home and safe. My thoughts go out to the local people and tourists being evacuated. Scary times.

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Awake after very weird dreams. About a woman breaking down and disassociating or perhaps in a psychotic state over her marriage breakdown.

Very distressing given that I have been there, done that, bit the bullet, owned the t shirt, rebuilt my psyche, banged my drum, blown my own trumpet and whirling dervished the Dead useless defunct life into the dust.

I am so tired. But I am so blessed to have survived my own demonic infestation of a life. Where to or what next?! Only the gods know!

I think I need some more water and a cuddle with my dog (who woke me up as he wants to enjoy his day too). Fair enough, Beauregard! Up and at 'em!

23 September 2016

I had a long nap with my black and white Muse at my side. Now we are going to the dogs and later I am going out with Annette to the West End Markets. Another day in Paradise. :-)

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It has come to my attention that I am not a very nice person. I love how my angels warp and weft my fragile little unravelled mind.

I have painted the top coat. While listening to Shirley Bassey belt out her Borderline Victim Love songs. Pick me pick me or I shall die.

Fuck you Universe. Diamonds are Forever and so am I. Now if we could only clear up that little misunderstanding Hashem. You know. The one where you send me "Angels" and other assorted maniacs and you set them before me like an unanointed platter of a feast, demanding I turn shit to gold, like Rumpelstiltskin.

Give me a break. I wants my Precious…but yeah I know. Cheers Fanx a lot. Owned by supreme beings with supernatural primordial senses of humour.

Shechinah gives me a cosmic hug as her drapery falls around my feet (like any ordinary Stripper) and Adonai Lordly waggles His Phallus at me.

That is how it starts. But I will finish it My Lord and Lady!. You made me this way. Been in training for this all my Life(s?)

Ignoble humanoids with delusions of grandeur will be brought down to the lowest common denominator.

Eg. Today Tonight August 2008. Lmao.

The piper must be paid. I will keep whistling up the winds of change, hope, ( hack! Spew! Hope's Hairball) and Love.

My grandfather Anton Patula knew what would become of me. Long before I was brought to this earth, or even the frenzied coupling of my mater and pater. Both my grandfathers have a lot to answer for. I am the repository of all their shitty vile karma.

But I rise above it. Hang from the chandeliers. Witches and Orthodox Jews and dreadlocked flower children, outlaw motorcycle governors, all have no power of me. Not even the Vikings! (Ok maybe a little bit..ahem…all hail Odin). Adonai (Know whom you stand before).

Yeah yeah. I can't stand You or any other gods. Too cruel, too very cruel. But funny!

Why? I who have nothing, no one am the only one who loves you! (yiddish mama guilt trip). Actually it is all bollocks.

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I woke up with Penny, Mushu and Beauregard all camped around my head. Languishing like an aura of protective fur Angels around me.

Today is gonna be a good day. So saith the Beauregard dog-god and the feline gods of ancient wisdom and protection.

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Awake. Like a Dry Martini in a James Bond Movie. Shaken not stirred. License to kill and a license to thrill but swallow it down like a smooth panacea of all that is wrong in my life.

Remember I am awesome and no man has the right to steal my joy, my guts or my glory.

Inadequate Wiglet Muppet men who destabilise me are not for my Highest Good and must fade into the background like a closing curtain on my stage.

It is not my fault I make men feel inadequate. If they had had to fight for survival against 5 Narcopaths from birth they would be fucking unbelievably courageous, fragile but radiant and luminous too.

I did not choose this life and sure as shit would not choose it again. But the universe won't let me die and instead murders my heart and mind daily with more horrific Bastardry than I could ever expect.

I self harm by loving vapid cruel men and attracting psychopaths.

But I am awesome. Awesomely alone and rejected. Over and over again for my crime of survival and Daring to strive for Love and Happiness.

Life goes on. Fuck it.

I have different kinds of love to inspire me. Beautiful soulful friends who buoy me up and encourage me in my grief and madness. My pets. My garden. Unconditional loves. The best.

23 September 2015

10.54 pm. I just woke up. Slept 12 hours. Wow! So exhausted. I rushed outside to lock up the chooks. Luckily the foxes hadn't visited yet.

Poss poss the possum was up on the apex of the roof, squatting delicately to take a dump, while eyeing me suspiciously. Piddler on the Roof. No lovely jewish klezmer violinists for me. That is what I get for ably avoiding Yom Kippur.

Well, Hashem, in my defense, you did create me to be The Chosen One, the Universal Schmuck, led by an outstretched and a strong hand through a life of tzores. Leading me onwards, forwards and upwards but not away from trauma. Always more tzores.

At this late stage of my life, (never been this old before) I might have dropped my bundle yet again, but hey, I am still arguing with the Invisible One. All Good!

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Today is Yom Kippur. Day of Atonement.

Blessings to those who fasted today and blessings to those who did not fast but remember G-d, the True Judge!

He and I are not friends right now. Probably cos I forgot today is Yom Kippur and I forgot to fast and beat my breast.

So for the record, I am sorry I am an arsehole, G-d, but I am hammered with trauma and a very bad depression. It is rather ironic my bad depression often synchronise with holy days and holidays.

I am Perfect in my imperfections. Thank you for the soul You breathed into me. For my life, for my mind and for my joy. For my daughter Crystal who vows to suicide if I do (Pressure!) and for my few genuine friends who love me just as I am.

23 September 2014

Suddenly hit by a wave of exhaustion. I rebuke your negativity, damnèd spirit and return it to you to the Power of 10!

Now having a nice cup of tea and going to keep pottering with my artistic contrivance.

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The bunnies had a lovely time in the garden, kissing and running in their enclosure while I watered the front garden, then spread horse manure everywhere. One of my roses is full of buds! It's a climber but put all its energy into flowering instead of climbing. It is going to be gorgeous!! So exciting.

Meanwhile my grape is just a stick and it had new leave buds but they died. Hmmm! I think it is not going to survive!

The fishponds are doing great and everything is blooming or booming.

Happy Grateful Woman Here!

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KOOKABURRAS! New life all around me! (Noisy little buggars!)

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Little Frieda was the only hen to lay an egg today. No eggs yesterday either. I guess they need to give their cloacas a break. Bloody hard work giving birth each day.

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I got up just before 2 pm. Now sitting in garden watching the chooks and bunnies doing their thing. Sipping a hot cup of tea and enjoying the vibe. Just lovely! Happy to be alive in this moment!

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3.43am. Productive night. Worked on my decoupage case. Slow laborious process and tv was really shit tonight. Still it keeps my hands busy and being creative takes my mind off other shit. So I feel glad to be doing something with my time.

Today I finished sifting the ashes and threw them around the roses, the peanut butter tree and the cumquat tree. Hopefully they like it. I know roses like ashes.

My roses are growing very quickly with the warmer weather. It's amazing and Crystal was surprised to see Mischief is almost full-grown and as big as his mother. He is 3 months old almost. He hasn't started crowing yet. Still talking baby chick talk. I will be sad to have to find another home for him when his hormones kick in.

Crystal thinks he might be a girl but I have seen some incriminating domination tactics that look suspiciously like bird sex. Oh dear!

Anyway, time to sleep!

23 September 2013

Welcome to Tony Abbott's New Fascist Regime. No Comments to Media about Boat People Policy. Military already under orders. When asked about Homeless Crisis... No comment. Media and Free Speech already being stymied. No transparency in the Govt. Be aware and alert, People of Australia. This is just the beginning!

23 September 2010

I'm feeling more serene after yesterday's stomach issues which were grossly unpleasant then discovering my relationship is over. It was sort of a day of major purging I guess. Well now I'm all scoured out, I can attempt to have a more pleasant life in the future. LOL (My Sukkot wish!)

23 September 2009

And the sky is a hazy shade of "orange" with a blue sun. Is there life on Mars cos I think we are on it now.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons