Memories: 25 August 2025

25 August 2025

6:10 am a pretty peachy dawn sky. I flew back into my body cos it needed to pee. My mouth is dry. My lungs still raspy. But I am alive again. Another day in “Paradise”. It’s Monday.

My rib cage aches as though I have been in a boxing ring, thrown into the fray. Perhaps I have. This spiritual war is killing me but the gods never let me quit, cede or yield. At least the entity that tries to crawl into bed with me each night as I settle into sleep has stopped doing that. Or they are doing it but I am no longer consciously sensating their presence. Is it good or bad…I don’t know.

My pinched sciatic nerve in my right buttock has eased. That was very painful yesterday afternoon and evening. So yes…I am back…from yet another physicsl malaise but I am glad I had my short walk around the block yesterday evening as I got to see Rosie the golden retriever and her joy to see me was boundless! I had a nice long chat with Avril although the night descended with its winter chill so I worried about my papier mache lungs.

I have shredded some old traumas like a jaded rockstar with a broken g string…it’s been arduous and painful but catalysing. Pulling the golden thread of my life back into taut resonance and screaming into the Void and slamdunking my spiritual truths and holding myself precious. It’s been intense! The agonies of memories and the ecstasies of newly tweaked recalibrations. Holding on while letting go.

Yesterday afternoon I received the sad news that a friend of mine I knew as a young woman, has died.

Vale John Hoekman. I never forget how wonderful and kind you and Taly were to me when I went back home to NZ in late 2004 and early 2005 for those three weeks. I had always hoped to see you and Taly again. But I never made it to Israel. You were and always will be a fine decent man. I pray for you peace as you transition to the Ein Soph Aur. Much much love goes with you! Blessèd Be.

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Dear John Hoekman

These words find you in the spirit realm, after you transitioned yesterday.

They are words of memory and I wish I could have spoken them to your face but I never made it to Israel to see you and Taly in person again.

This is what I will always hold precious in memory of you.

You were/are a truly great man who exuded only love and kindness to your family and friends. I met you as a 16 year old because Taly came to work with me as a waitress at Suzys Coffee lounge and we became friends. I attended your wedding. Taly looked so beautiful and your eyes shone with pride and happiness.

I used to visit you with Crystal as a toddler, at your home in Plimmerton that you built yourself with your bare hands. Taly, weaving her stunning tapestries, you sitting with us over dinner, smiling with your eyes shining. Such joy, such peace. An oasis of calm.

You were a role model of masculinity that for me was pristine and precious. One of the few men in my early life that was kind and noble and respectful. I think you understood that Cees had been a predator but I never spoke of it outright to you (the shame, the denial, the heavily tamped down traumas) but I remember one time you had a brief and stern word to Cees and it was then that I understood that you understood my suffering with both him and my mother. You never mentioned it to me but I saw the look of concern and deep recognition on your eyes.

I was so grateful for your silent but stoic support. You didn’t know it but it was life-saving for me, even back then as a teenager. To know there are good kind decent honouring men out on the world.

When I returned to Wellington end of 2004-January 2005 and my halfsister Angela was so vicious, you and Taly picked me up and brought me to your beautiful home. My angels, my darlings. You were so happy to see me and again your beautiful eyes shone with wisdom, grace, kindness and happiness. You made me feel Seen, Welcomed and Loved. Safe!

I feel such hurt and rage that poverty kept me from seeing you and your beautiful Taly again. It’s so unfair, so cruel. But I have the warmth in my soul, knowing you were happy in Israel and you had each other and your family and you were kept safe until the end of your life and I always knew, whenever life got ugly…so fucking ugly…that there was one like you out there in the world, making your art, building, Being. With patience, kindness, with forbearance and with grace.

Thank the gods for you, John. For Taly. For your deep abiding love!

It’s been over 20 years since I last saw your sparkling eyes, and your smile. But you were never forgotten and life and distance separated us but love held us together.

Soar free, beautiful man. Mama T, The Tanya loves you.

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My mother Gisela abandoned my half sister to a Polish orphanage shortly after arriving in NZ in 1956. Angela began, in deep grief, to starve herself to death. The Polish nuns demanded that Gisela take her back and raise her. In truth she (and later my own tiny self!) were not safe with her. Ever! But the Polish nuns didn’t want the scandal of a suicidal child on their hands. And I get it. Her suffering was immense.

Yet she did not ever defend or fight for me, suffering at the hands of the same familial predators. So I lost any sense of forgiveness for “It”. When she declared me dead in 2012 I just felt an overwhelming sense of peace and relief. No more scrabbling in her faecal matter trying to get love and support from evil unloving unkind people.

It is what it is. On I go, spiralling into infinity. Holding my own. Alone. As always. Yet in good company with my ancestors that love me, the angels, the fae and a few rare and precious souls, I call friends.

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Sometimes I wonder if my constant war with child abusers, and the kinds of vermin who think that scenario makes great comedy… and my war against the poisoning of my species with a bio weapon is even worth it. It has cost me dear. My own daughters (cowards). A man I was in love with, pretty much everything.

But I have decided…I won’t back down. I won’t be silenced, and I won’t let you get away with it…Any of it. Any of it. Some things are worth fighting for: like the false promise of real love and of safety that Scott lured me in with. Shit happens, I guess. “I shoulda known better than to fall in love with you” ….Baby. But you aren’t the first or last twisted fuck that thought you would entertain yourself by playing a sick evil game with my heart mind and body. Feed off my energy that I produced in my mosh, then go out of your way to debase me ‘cos you found a new “love”.

Whatever! Who needs that sick evil crap anyway? But I am a Warrior Goddess and you underestimated my defiance, courage and heart….again and again. Pitiable, actually.

John’s death has reminded me. There are good kind courageous and decent men out there in the world. Deserving of my power, my heart and body and spirit. Maybe one day I will find The One. Not a polyamorist sadistic lacklustre cowardly zombie dead shit playboy paedophile enabling fuckwit…but a real man. Jesus! …not Jesus. But he’s out there…People of Earth. A real man.

Anyway, in the meantime…I hold the line…cos noone else has the courage or the couth to hold it with me. Alone. Triumphant. Stupid as fuck while walking a tightrope with a five fingered female rapist named Michelle (which one of you sent that Bitch?!) or a 142nd fastest gun salute at the end of it.

But you won’t “Virginia Guiffre” me, you evil perverted dead shit CUNTS, whomever you are (and I have a fairly good idea!!!) You already tried that in 2015 and by the Will of the Gods you failed to destroy me. Again and again.

So what are we gonna do now? Let’s dance, Motherfuckers! Hahahaha.

25 August 2023

Another glorious day. I woke up at 7 am but decided to go back to sleep. I am exhausted. I woke again at 10.30 am. From a weird dream about being in a white hacienda-style house, regaling friends about how I once invited myself off the street to an outlaw bikie clubhouse.

I tell the two women, that I regret not learning how to shoot a gun as that would have come in handy for the “apocalypse” or the devolution of western civilisation. I tell them I don’t own a gun or have a gun license so it’s kind of ironic that two men I encountered in real life in recent months both suggested I go bush with them so they can teach me survival skills like fishing and hunting. Hmmm. Survival skills. Rather a theme that has now invaded my subconscious dreaming.

Anyway I look up from the coffee table I am sitting at with the two women friends. (The whole house is painted a very pristine sterile white!) and am shocked to see a group of about 18 men and a few women sitting at a large board table, also painted white. They looked young, in their 30s and they are staring at me in awe.

A few of the men are older and clearly in charge. I realised they are having a meeting. One asks me “Did you really join an outlaw clubhouse!” I smile and say “Yes. Right off the street. I didn’t know anyone there! But I was made welcome for 8 months”. They all look at each other in surprise!

Then I realise they are a “clubhouse” too, but I am interrupting their meeting. So I go upstairs, chuckling to myself about small worlds and how I find my way into the most extraordinary spaces.

“They will never forget you” the spirits remind me. I reply sanguinely. “Probably not, but I paid a hefty price for my courage and decency”.

No man wanted me after that. They wrongly assumed I was an “onion” instead of a warrior goddess queen, riding myself through my own traumatic life the best way I could. Alone, broken but fiercely determined to find my tribe and my safe landing.

Ultimately there is no tribe for me. I will have to form my own tribe of people with the same moral fibre and stiff backbone who will stand up in the face of global tyranny and catastrophe.

Are there any out there like me, I often wonder? Who will be proud to be by my side, on my side and will hold me in deep reverence and high regard? Only my few true friends can achieve that.

And Charley bird of course!

There will be wildness and dancing tonight. I will continue to dance for as long as I can as no one ever has the right to diminish my joy, freedom, creativity and fight for my own body and light. I will not submit to old age and decrepitude just yet. I will delight in my own body, mind and spirit until the day I die.

Life is for the living and the few “hungry ghosts” and revivified ones like me who faced Death a multitude of times and still came back Shining! A shaman’s walk, dance, combat with darkness. Alone, or in good company…we ride!

25 August 2022

My iPhone is dying. It now won’t charge which is weird as it just had a system update from Apple the other day.

So if I disappear off fb it’s because I can no longer use my iPhone. I still have my laptop if that happens.

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Today a package arrived from Metro South (Queensland health!) They want me to submit to another colonoscopy. Hell no, I won’t be doing that!!

I wrote “Return to sender” on it with a note saying that I won’t be proctologised by that systemically abusive hospital ever again!

I grabbed my bird and dog and we walked to the post office box and sent it back to them.

I also wrote an email to my psychiatrist as they are attempting to backdoor me (literally!) without my consent. I am utterly livid!

I got home and lay down for a rest. It’s a glorious sunny day and I will be holding my own from here on in. No medical intervention other than my usual talking therapy, will I allow.

I had to heal myself from the last chest infection. (Still no Covid!) However I have zero trust in my (now former GP) and I am yet to go to a new doctor. But I won’t be coerced into colonoscopies after the last trauma last year.

25 August 2021

25 August 2020

25 August 2019

Last night while chatting to Nigel in NZ I mentioned twice to him about my friend Richie “pointing the bone” with good humour as I don’t think he meant to do me harm.

Then I went to the freezer to put some cooked food away and a very large marrow bone fell out and smashed onto my foot with the hard boney end. It felt like being smashed by a hammer. There is a little red pointed mark where it hit me. The bruising is not too bad (yet!) as I put ice on it.

But Someone Upstairs literally pointed the bone at me. Again! So it’s time to smudge and salt my home and perimeter of the garden again.

The spirits from across the road where the land has been destroyed are still angry. Bobo spent most of the night running to that part of my fence line and barking at invisible beings. Invisible to me, anyway.

Oh they are more annoying than Siri, eavesdropping on my conversations then stabbing me with bones out of the freezer. Funny! Not!!!! I cast Ye out restless daemons.

You can stay and play at Sacred Space only if you respect my peace, my safety and my authority. Not.even.joking.about.that.

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I have smudged and salted my Sacred Space. I have returned all negativity to their original source to the power of ten. All beings not of loving kindness, honour, respect, universal love are cast out from my home, garden, animals, friends and family. Only True Love, Peace is welcomed here.

Amen v’ selah.

Time for a shower 🙂

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1.46 pm I have showered, and just smudged my car as well.

I thoroughly enjoyed my neighbour across the road, freaking out and running inside.

All negativity returned to their appropriate Senders.

I read psalms out loud. It was very powerful. 🙂

I had to laugh when I got to the part in one of the psalms about “a flowing river!” And in that moment I was standing on the edge of the flowing leak on the front verge, as I salted the perimeter right to the street. I cast my eyes to Heaven and yelled out “Aight, can you get those vile creeps to fix this leak as well, O Holy One!” It was hilarious!

Megan: It's a regular thing to do, it keeps evil out for a spell then it's time to smudge again.

Yes. I rather enjoyed the casting out of negativity. I will do it as often as required!

Of course my awful neighbours deem me mad. But it’s okay. My home, my Sacred Space. They can own their own Shit!

Megan: Mine needs cleansing also, not today though

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25 August 2018

4:15 am. Mama T aka The Tanya is home safe from a wonderful night out! Omg! I started out the night dancing with my beautiful joyous friends and tribe at Ecstatic Dance.

We left a tad early as Jenny was feeling unwell so I took her home then drove back to the casino. I got there around 11 pm and danced most of the night until 3.30 am when the energy finally sank down into the abyss like a lead balloon.

I danced with so many wonderful friends, old and new. I had a fantastic time. Two nights from a full moon and this little Wolf Woman/Berserker went completely Wild. (Well not completely ahem, as I came home alone as per usual!)

So now I am unfurling my intrepid but tightly wound muscles like a lotus flower in my bath. Sipping tea and feeling peaceful and blissful, listening to early morning birdsong and my beloved Beauregard gnawing on a very large bone.

I will probably not be able to walk or move much tomorrow, I mean, Today!

Oh and a storm is brewing. Hopefully we get some much yearned for rain!

(No wonder my energy was so frenetic! Storms and full moons do that to me!)

Laila Tov!

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Sitting in my garden, with my bare feet on the ground, Beauregard beside me, Charlie also. Feeling exhausted but happy. Rain drizzling slowly, hitting my face and arms and legs.

Grateful to be alive, to be surrounded by positive life-affirming/life -enhancing people. Just had a chat with my daughter who is the love of my life. I really missed her terribly when she was in the UK. She is being extra loving and attentive after my recent health scares.

Each day is a gift yet to be greeted with both surprise and a certain amount of equanimity. I never know what is going to evolve but just going with the flow, knowing I am loved, valued (even for my small meshugass ways) and supported is a warm solace to my heart and soul.

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I will not let the corruption and repression of our current zeitgeist restore me to my former major depression. I will look to the gods of Light, Love and truth, justice of the Sephirot which is more balanced and fair than human justice, honour and integrity and grace shall be my values so I may merit, be’ezrat HaShem and by Thor and Odin and Freya and I dunno, maybe Papa Legba whom I culturally appropriated to protect me from a certain passionate, determined Baptist African-American “suitor”, a measure of peace in my cronedom.

The gods must be crazy but I am in co-creatorship, stewardship with Them and it blesses me and fills me with joy to see how my tiny insignificant mortal heart is beating her fragile but berserker truths into new paradigms and potentialities each second.

Maybe it’s madness, maybe it’s Maybelline? Maybe I am Finally in my own Spirit Mind Body Soul integrating my existence in this moment.

Delusion or illusion? The paradox of life. The matrices and vortices and portals to the macrocosm. As above so below. We got Gaia and the universe.

Mutters as an aside: I must make an offering to Papa. Time for a cigar. Lmao!

25 August 2017

Today's gift from Sacred Space. The new weeping rose is in bloom. Amazing!

Beauregard, Charlie and I went for a short walk to the dog park. It was agonising for me but I thought a walk might do me good. Beau played with a tennis ball in the small dog area and loved it so much he was reluctant to come home. (I wanted to leave before it got busy as he is savage with other dogs).

Charlie learned how to drink out of the water fountain after watching me do it. He loved it! It was hot at the park so I splashed water over him as well. He loves going out with Beau and me for "walkies".

I carry him on a stick as otherwise he poops epic runny rainbow lorikeet poop all over me. He hated not sitting on my shoulder at first but today he seemed quite content to be kept on his stick perch.

Some young handsome guy arrived just as we were leaving so I put the stick over my shoulder (to keep Charlie away from the guy's big bulldog). The guy shot me a sweet grin. People are always amazed to see Charlie out with us.

On the walk back I had to take my shoes off to walk barefoot as it hurt too much on my back. All good.

Then I summoned up the strength to vacuum the floors. Still need to mop but resting again. I gave Beauregard a bath and a brush today also. He looks lovely!

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The Beau went after my Maltesers on the coffee table. He grabbed the packaging in his mouth and knocked over my mug of tea which splashed all over my iPhone so I freaked out because the iphone is out of warranty and grabbed the lollies away from Beau as chocolate is poisonous to dogs.

I quickly dried my iPhone on my skirt so managed to rescue it before it got wet inside. I told Beauregard he was a bad boy. He looked really sheepish and ashamed. I moved the last of the Maltesers into the kitchen then devoured them.

Then washed off the iPhone case. Then took a shower as I needed one anyway but now I was covered in tea! I threw the skirt out. It got snagged on a sharp edge of the vacuum cleaner pole today so frankly it was kinda worn out anyway. Still annoying though.

I need to buy some more skirts soon. I had to throw out a few that had worn out today.

Anyway all that fracas had me feeling like I just ran a marathon!

I am trying to decide if I want to go out later as I still have back pain and only $20 left until Tuesday. Living the psychedelic dream! But my rego was paid yesterday, so that was a close call. Phew!

I honestly don't know how I do it?! C'est incroyable! Formidable!

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25 August 2016

Today Lyn and Annette visited and Annette had bought me a new microwave, gave me a gift card to buy groceries (a very large amount!) and bought me a sack of mash for the hens. They also brought a chicken and bread rolls for lunch. Wow! So blessed with all my wonderful friends!

After they left I took Beauregard for a walk in the forest. I fell over but was unhurt apart from a few grazes. Then on the way back I took Bobo to the dog park but he attacked another puppy so I left immediately. He is so naughty!

So I won't be taking him back there again as he is too aggressive with other dogs now. Such a shame.

Now we are back home and I am resting again.

It has been a lovely day apart from Beauregard's misadventures and my little tumble.

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25 August 2014

Hmmm. No more cashew nuts for me! After having stomach cramps and diarrhoea for the past few days, I googled cashew nut allergies. I don't have the other allergic reactions but obviously my stomach can't handle the fibre and is creating histamine. I feel dreadful. This too shall pass!

I thought it was stress as it's been a very stressful week but the cashew nuts (deliciously coated in honey) which I savoured the past 3 nights have definitely been the root cause of my gut problems.

I don't get sick from macadamias! So this whole thing is kinda well, Nutty!

Anyway, enough about my shitty life. 4.32 am. Time to sleep!

Laila/boker Tov!

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I woke up to carnage! Poor Budgie cage tipped over but Rahul still alive thank God. Mess everywhere. Found rotting frozen food in my kitchen.

Shit needs to be sorted. I am ropable. Glad little Rahul wasn't slaughtered by my cats.

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I have been working on sealing and now painting Vintage suitcases Crystal bought for me, in preparation for Decoupage.

Keeping myself busy at night while Gita and Saniya sleep.

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@ Montezumas with Sarah. She is buying me dinner to celebrate her new job.

We had a lovely dinner. Nachos, meatballs and rice, guacamole, salsa, sour cream, salad. Yum!

25 August 2010

Been researching my Phillips family history. My dad was a labourer, my grandad was a labourer, his dad was, you guessed it a labourer, and his dad was a farmer and his dad was a carrier. I come from a long line of bums, no wonder I can't get ahead in life, I'm genetically loaded to be a bum (read Schnorrer!) All working class with not a lady or gent among them.

My half-sister was a dancer and made her dance teaching certificate (then quit dancing!). She also learned the piano accordion. She loved singing.

My father played the ukekele and sang me little ditties like Tiptoe through the roses and They are going to take me away! (They never did hohum, but my perverted family liked to gaslight me that I was stupid and insane. Lmao!)

My Irish great grandfather Thomas Phillips had flaming titian red hair and was famous for dancing the Irish jig. He sang also.

He got excommunicated from the Catholic Church for bigamy.

My father’s father was a gold prospector and a wanderer in older age.

My father’s mother (a bitter irascible woman!) Loved paper quilling. Knitting and crocheting and cooking (which for 7 enormous sons would have been a helluva task!)

My mother’s parents were friends with opera singers so obviously loved Opera. My grandmother Eva Meyer was an anarchist. She love music, singing, and sewing. She even sewed her own corsets and bras and silk knickers.

She made preserves and harvested mushrooms and gleaned fruit from the edges of farmers fields (which was allowed in Germany!) She read playing cards.

Unfortunately she was often violent and beat my mother severely during most of her childhood. Some kind of “madness”. Probably agitated Depression. More likely effects of PTSD during the war also.

My mother’s biological father was a powerful Witch and also loved Dancing. His nickname was “The Dancer”. His family line were farmers in Poznan (Posen) but he ran away to be a ships carpenter when he was young but gave up the sea after his shipmate got swallowed whole by an Anaconda in the Amazon. Later in life he was wealthy and owned an apartment building.

The Roma people would visit him once a year and park their caravans around his apartment building and spend a night studying occult lore with him. Pre Nazi Germany, as most of those beautiful souls would have died in concentration camps. Not even Magic could save them from Hitler and his obedient evil perverted populace.

My de facto stepfather of 23 years (a concentration camp survivor) but a sexual predator, used to love to play guitar and sing for my mother. Every Sunday morning they put on records and we danced to schlocky oldtime love songs.

I went along with it as I did not even realise I was missing out on Pink Floyd, David Bowie and Led Zeppelin and other music of my generation.

My half-sister bought me my first record when I was 13. Fleetwood Mac. I was thrilled. Then she actually stole it back from me. She was 28 at that time. A lawyer. Married with a daughter. Plenty of money. So there was no reason or excuse for such disgusting behaviour.

She was always intimidating and jealous of me since my birth. Dickhead. I found out what a spineless deceitful coward she was during the will dispute. But psy sighs. Dead baby sisters do not cry.

My elder daughter is an actor/singer/director/choreographer/playwright/clown and is currently working as a “clown doctor” Captain Phoenix at the Mater hospital with sick children.

My younger daughter was also a talented actor but refused to live in her sister’s shadow. She trained as a Stylist and wanted to become a Fashion Designer. No idea what she is doing now.

I myself am an unpublished writer on Facebook (lmao), a dancer, I used to embroider tapestries and wove a few tapestries too. I knit toys occasionally. Currently knitting Faeries. I used to paint as a child but only Mrs Robertson encouraged my writing and art. She adored me.

I am a lover of music, animals, the earth, the stars, life, good kind people and Art. I am a Thriver (after decades of epic abuse!) a bon vivant, a raconteur and also a universal schmuck. But I am also powerful in my own right and learning to love and manage that “power” has been a lifelong struggle.

This morning I woke up with the idea that I can almost be grateful to my fucking filthy perverted enemies that literally tried to kill me and stymy me and destroy me during the past 54 years. They made me Indomitable, courageous, fierce and even, over time I reclaimed my beauty and my heart.

I kept my integrity. My faith in a higher power. In myself and in Life.

Life clawed me back from the brink of death many times. Someone wants me here. Is determined I stay with my ear pinned to the ground with a cosmic spear for the next part of my journey or years on earth.

What has Life got in store for me? Only the gods knowwww!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons