Memories: 5 January 2026

5 January 2026

8:20 am I was up five times last night to pee. But I drank a lot of water yesterday as it was very humid. So there is that.

It’s another great cloudy murky morning. Time to get up and face the day.

5 January 2025

My man comes to me, glitching in the matrix, out of time and space, manifesting out of his own fears and atrophy, his own “bored rich man’s” games.

What do you want from me, my love? What is it you ever wanted? To feast on my soul like an elixir of lust and longing when you have so many, so many that feed on you?

What is it you think I am? Woman, alone in Housing commission, on a disability? You made me queen of your own Dreaming…then shuck me off and peel me off like a stripped and torn banana skin thrown to the organ grinders’ monkey.

Don’t you know you can’t polish a turd? A “Pope” called Alice used to spray paint dog turds on the streets of Toowoomba but who the fuck is Alice anyway!

Disappearing in the psychedelic dreaming of false love and atrophy. Of abandonment and triumphant reclamation of her mind/spirit/body…glowing in the golden morning light. Chewing on her pearls she tossed before men then laid low, glistening with morning dew and the slurry she slew to Become: this version of herself.

Alone in the matrix. Alive…but at what cost, my loves?…a lot. Too much…perhaps not enough..never enough.

It is what it is.

Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. Fool or King. Lover or hater. Sadist or sweetness. Equal, or slathering obsequious Submissive (yuck!)

Fake or Authentic. Dead Zombie men? Or Alive, fully enervated Wild Free Lover. We have seen them all. Held them all precious…for a moment in time.

Love stolen from others is no prize. Love despoiled or desecrated…no surprise. Love sanctified and cherished, kissed and honoured and held up to the Light? A wonder and a majesty.

But even Angels Fall. It’s not the fall that hurts…it’s the sudden stop at the bottom. Somebody stop me! Lift me up in strong loving arms. Save me from the crashing crushing gnosis of the eternal tricksters’ games.

“Shhhh…better you remain in denial, Little One. Whistle a new melody…turn a new page. Begin again”.

Okay…okay Angels. What do you require of me? My greatest most holy loves?

“Only to remain awake. Hold the vision of your new life…trust in it. Know it’s real even as it shimmers like a silvery mirage in a thirst maddening desert...know whom you are, Little One. Ours.

Worthy, beautiful, blessed. No accidents in the multiverses! There is a reason we made you Queen of your own unrequited smited desolate destiny. To show you: what is possible! To emblazon you with delight, joy and deep deep love and passion…to sing you Home.

He’s here. With you. Now and forever. Trust in that. Trust in him. Trust in yourself. Trust in the gods/angels/fae. It’s just another day in Paradise. In Hell. In the zero point field of your own heart coherence that is recognised, heard and valued”.

(Don’t lie to me, Angels…it’s a cruel farce to give me hope then tear it away…)

“Shhh little One…the man worthy of you is coming. Hold the vision”.

I can’t Angels…it’s too late. Too much deception. Too many games…too much treachery.

“Is it yours to own, Tanya? What is truly yours?”

Nothing and no one! Old friends have acted strange, daughters both “gone”, too many dead pets, and a world destroying itself each and every day while, like a cosmic jester, I dance to my own obliteration.

“We know…it’s Time. Your time, Little One. Hold your own, hold your vision...it’s beautiful, soul nourishing and True. It’s why they all crave you like a faery queen in a psychic vampires’ enclave. They can’t get enough. Your defiance, your freedom, your power. Your deep deep love that makes even we Angels shiver with frisson and awe”.

FFS Angels…let me goooooo.

“If we do that, Little One, you really will be in an illusion, a lost and empty darkness that you may not climb out of this time. Is that what you want? Eternal oblivion? No more sunshine in your hair, or goddess coronets crowning your blessèd head, no more flickering awakenings in your loins, blowing life back into you? Is that what you fear? Your own body calling you back into co-creation with the gods and mortals.

Is that what this is about? The one who loves you so…fears you also. Utterly terrified of your reclamations of not just your own body, mind and spirit…but his too. Hahaha.

You think that you are the Fool but we the gods decide who the fools really are! Who gets to be your partner through this last phase of your life. Who is worthy! We saved the best for last! The last tango. The last and greatest most noble, honouring, sincere, passionate Love of your Life.

You’ve never had that before. A man who truly loves you. Is worthy of you. Who holds you precious. Admires you, but does not feint and toss in his deliberations of you. Who believes in you. Beyond all mortal ken”.

What the fuck? Angels. Don’t do that! Don’t feed me on spray painted turds and call it “spiritual gold”…it’s a shitfuckery without end.

“Hahahaha….we won’t ever lie to you, deny you or trick you. “They” invented humans for that. In the Garden humans were pure and untainted…but they decided to become gods…now they are infested and aspire to be cybernauts and cyborgs. Nothings and no one’s…soulless empty vessels that constantly need data input.

We kept you human for a reason, Tanya. It’s both a blessing and a curse. One whiff of your still-human pheromones and they go insane with obsession for you. It’s something you are going to have to manage. To wrangle like a tigress tamer in a three ring circus.

You will need to hold yourself in perfect alignment. Remain solid and true. You are not responsible for their desultory olfactory manufactured confectured illusions of you.

Nor for their lust or hunger or greed to claim you or ride on You like a wild mustang kwe. You will throw them off, the false ones…ride through this storm. Nourish yourself at the watery edges of that meadow of the valley that shades both Death and Life in equal measure. Come! Arise and shine! You’ve got this!”

I have nothing and no one, Angels…not even myself!

“Shhh Tanya…stop with that stubborn defiant Hobbit Stomp. We raised you on high. Now ...flyyyyy.

Remember the other day, we told you you need binocular focus…from a distance there is harmony….bring it into vision, clear eyed and true. The One for you Sees you too. Even in your scarified tormented flesh, your post traumatic growth, cutting yourself free of the abject horror and the verminous parasitical feeders of the past.

When you let those ones fade to black…you will know, in the bright light of day or the sparkling bejewelled cosmos of night…whom Truly is yours!

Blessèd be, Little One”.

Blessèd Be, Angels.

…

https://youtube.com/shorts/PdHJYJ5hH58?si=XO6DvYx1FAnMv8w8

5 January 2023

I am still quite unwell but I had an urge to “run”. So I took myself to see “The Banshee of Inisherin”. I absolutely loved this movie. I highly recommend it.

The scenery on the West of Ireland alone was spectacular. The story was both sweet and dark. Weaving stoicism and rebellion of human nature with the gods. Just delightful.

I had been lying on my bed, feeling woeful and next minute the powerful urge to get up and go to see that movie overwhelmed me…and I am so glad I did.

On a comical note: after gathering up some groceries for tonight’s dinner I got lost trying to find my car. So I had to go up and down in the Dendy cinema lift. One nice looking but cheeky man asked me if it were a fashion parade?

I said “No, I’m just lost and need to find my car”. Everyone laughed. ”We’ve all been there” they said. Aight. Three different levels and I finally made it. For the love of all the gods…why does this shit always happen to me?

Note to self: if I really really wanted to pick up random men in the lift then I need to go at 6 pm and RIDE that lift for a half hour and for the love of all that is holy, next time at least put on lipstick and wash my hair. The sardonic fuckers had no idea the effort I made just to go see a movie.

Rising from my domestic doom and my unfavourable bowels. Click click…gotcha Boys…oh handsome ones!

(Insert banshee silent movie wailing here!)

Does Death Become Me? I am, after all is said and done…THE BECOMING!

…

I have a spirit around the house. Ratih was just about to leave after cleaning my house. She says “Goodbye” to Beau. He was staring intently into the hallway. He did not break his concentration to even turn his head to say “bye” to Ratih. Unusual. He loves Ratih!

She turned to me and said “there is someone there!” I nodded. This morning I was lying on my bed, reading something on Facebook. Beauregard was facing opposite me. I observed his ears prick up and he wagged his tail a few times in greeting. As though he recognised someone entering the room. He had been staring for a few minutes.

Yesterday I kinda had a fight with an exorcist. Not directly. But I left a comment for a woman who was upset at his victim blaming comments as a survivor of child sexual abuse. (I was haunted by videos on YouTube on that theme all day yesterday!) but I am accustomed to fighting that primeval ugliness.

I told the woman that what happened to her as a child (incest!) was not her fault and to not take on board the energy of Wicked men (my jibe at that priest!) So interestingly, now there is a presence in my house.

It does not feel malevolent although it is capturing the attention of my dog. (I also watched a video about Zozo and ouija boards yesterday…so we are not inviting that entity into my house! lol).

My former lover had his name tattooed on him as he was a big fan of Led Zeppelin. No wonder our romance never got off the maggotty pestilential writhing ground from hell! Zozo and my fierce goddess-protected energy just do not vibe…Man. But the love and passion was real…so there is that.

I once watched a wonderful tv show called Preacher and there was a scene where a demon and an angel had fallen intensely deeply in love and they writhed together then tore apart on and off for centuries. I laughed my arse off …it felt like a perfect description of my last love interest.

So exorcists are known for having “attachments” which is a byproduct of their “work”. So I am hoping he has not sent something impish and negative because I, as a Jew and a Witch, defended that woman who was distressed by the Church dogma that somehow child sexual Abuse survivors “deserve” it. I had to politely remind her that that Church absolutely revelled in centuries of abuse.

I was however touched by both the priest and the doctor (the YouTuber) saying a very catholic prayer in Latin for protection both before and after their video. Very wise and correct procedure when discussing demons and other fraught topics.

Personally that priest should reach out to that woman who commented as otherwise he just helped another sex abuse survivor lose her entire religion.

Evil is what it is!!! But don’t worry, The Tanya who was still sick with a uti, vulnerable and torn apart from also watching Manny Waks video about the Yeshiva in Melbourne… The Tanya the most hated, for standing up for other survivors and being counted….did that priest’s parochial work for him. Take that for “Headship” you misogynist cunt.

Oops was that my demon or my angel…slipping out of dimensions and raining hell on false prophets and hateful men.

C’est la vie Babies…c’est la fucking Vie.

Charley is up the tree. I adjured her not to shit on me. But shit she did, into my hair and forehead. It’s for the birds. The shitfuckery. But a bit funny!

Here is the link so you can see which parts I felt were ”problematic” …oh and in the comment section: the Catholics and assorted Christians piling on the Muslim person for being kind and supportive…. Also evil.

It’s getting harder and harder to deal with the inversion of both good and evil in this current epoch. They are blended together and regurgitated like chocolate thick shake vomit. Lmao! Can we say…Diabolic influences???

https://www.youtube.com/live/GMUjC8YRB5I?feature=share

5 January 2022

12:52 pm Right! I have just showered and washed my hair. My back is a bit uncomfortable still. But I have sanded back parts of the little drawer and slapped on some more varnish.

I am not gonna remake the knob even though it’s cracked because it will just be more risk of disaster and since when did I become a cabinet maker anyway? Ye gods. It’s getting nutty!

The drawer will be good enough for its purposes and I must remember that my arrant perfectionism leads to other disasters…I am worthy, I am Enough, I am good enough.

I can live with my own flaws and flawed drawers and I will survive. (Until it irks me enough that I tear it all down and start all over again!) which at this late stage of life is too arduous and deleterious for my health.

Lol. The little drawer is teaching me my limits. A good teacher. It thanks me for my reconstruction but now wants me to leave it the hell alone!

Funny. I have known that feeling…the gods must tweak and pinch and punch at their human clay footed dollies until we Become…something we do not recognise is the same old groove and the same old trope: repetition of cycles until we leap into the Wonder of the Unknown Void but in the meantime…nose to grindstone…get it right…get it right…but who’s dreaming and who’s idea of perfection, am I aspiring to? It’s absurdist and a tad Sysyphenian.

But I have Angels (human and ethereal!) at my back, cheering me on and comforting me when I fall into my usual abysmal chasms of deleterious delights.

I need only pull my drawers up and dance forward into the night/the light/the smite amidst the spite and spit and chew the gristle of defiant whistling and sing a new song (preferably by the sea as the energy magnifies my intentions. 🙂 ).

I can’t get to Byron anymore, because of draconian government insanity run amok but…this morning my darling Sally sent me a photo of Island Bay which also nurtured my soul during my ghastly evil perverted childhood and just the vision of that beauty made my heart leap and I know…I know…I can survive this life…as look what taught me in both tempestuous life-threatening storms and in the calm sunny days as well…Mother Nature, the sea, the beach and the cragged flax-covered cliffs I used to leap from.

(Back when as a child I truly could do anything, in spite of my comorbid domestic violations and limitations.)

So here we sit, a drying miniature drawer and a drying out superglued but bathed Tanya. Happiness in my marginalisation and isolation.

5 January 2021

I have hurt my back by making paper pulp the last few days. (From squatting down and lifting the blender and tipping motions. Ridiculous!

I also have a bit of hay fever or asthma. Yuck! But...it’s a beautiful sunny day. I put the paper pulp outside on the concrete path to dry.

I have just had a shower and am counting my blessings: fresh air, clean water and sunshine in my hair until I have to hop in the car to get the cash out to pay the new lawnmower man. (Yuck!) but then I will be able to enjoy my garden without the long grass and nightmare of worrying about it constantly growing.

I am manifesting miracles daily just by getting up still breathing. So anything can happen! Watch this space!

5 January 2020

Another day of poor health. Frankly my dear, I hope I just die soon. It’s ridiculous. All of it. But here we are.

54 and three-quarter years of dying. Dying to live. Dying for love. Dying to co-create a better life that never eventuated. I even got sick of dying and had a brief hiatus as a fully fleshed out femme fatale. Fuck it!

I’m only a zombie in my internal gut. On the outside I look quite alive and delightful if you don’t take too much notice of the blue lips and asthma. Psy sighs. Funny old world innit! Burn Baby Burn!

Still choosing Life even though it comes to me as deluded kaleidoscopic fragmented piecemeal lies. All of it. I tried removing the filter and kicked off the rose-coloured glasses but it fell to various shades of black so I quickly regained my psychedelic dreamer’s worldview as it is the only comfort I have now. Food goes straight through me. Lovers taunt or elude me. (Not that I miss those filthy lying cheating Fuckers!)

But I do stand in silent witness to the pernicious abandonments and bestial teasing lies. All of it. ALL OF IT.

Death would have been a great kindness. A mercy. A solace. But alas, no. I am kept in this pervasive State for no good reason, other than the schadenfreude of malicious curs.

A curse and a courtesy. Cheers thanks a lot.

…

…

5 January 2018

I saw another blue triangle butterfly in my trees today. I have never seen one before in my garden. Coochiemudlo Island on 1st Jan was the first time. So the message is being reinforced. Transformation, blue blue electric blue. Beauty, lightness of being. Flight. Enjoying the goodness of all things. Joy!

Thanks Butterfly! (Now show me the money! Enough to manifest all my plans for my future!)

Meh! Abundance, Freedom, Contentment in my garden. Worth a million trillion dollars.

…

2.46 am I have been trying to sleep since 10:30 pm. I was actually falling asleep on the couch, went to bed, and bam! Insomnia. Menopause is a Bitch.

But I shall not give in. I shall lie here and think of all the beautiful Loves awaiting me in the future. All the healing and magick I have woven in my spirit. All the new blessings unfolding around me.

All the joyful triumphant bliss I had to recreate from a bedrock of pain over so many decades.

My beautiful doctor says I will always live with trauma until my dying day, but I have learned to gain mastery over it. I can beat it back and call it out for what it is. Trapped, stored, wounded emotions. Limbic system tantrums.

Transmuting pain/loss/grief/abandonment and falling in love with myself and Life over and over again. Becoming wiser, stronger and more beautiful. Learning to trust my Higher Self and/or the gods.

My story is not over yet. In fact the best part of my life has only just begun. I have been toddling around with my arse hanging out of my nappies, smothered in shit (thrown at me by former family members and lovers) trying to make sense of all the evil in my personal world. Falling down, getting up. Chest out, chin up, pulling myself up by the socks.

My doctor wants me to leave behind the seedy underbelly of the clubs which triggered my warrior and my trauma. He wants me to find rest and peace and newer truer loves in Byron Bay.

Yesssss! It has been my desire for 23 years now. But no money. No money. So every day in every way I manifest miracles of Consciousness.

I follow my heart and dream my dreams and one day, maybe the gods will let me have my precious. Or perhaps my precious will welcome me and let me find a safe home there, surrounded by great beauty, harmony and loving friends and family. So mote it be!

5 January 2017

Many times on my walk through life I kick over many clods of dirt and mud. I stub my toe on them, hop about madly cursing my clumsiness for hurting myself by stepping near or on those blunt or sharp jagged obstacles. Then I straighten myself up to full height and shoulder my way along the path.

On rare occasions the stumpy rough rocks I fall over turn out to be diamonds. I pick that rock up not knowing its true value or the shine that is hidden beneath the dirt and grit. But somehow it speaks to me and brings me solace so I treasure it.

Be the diamond in the rough. Become cut and polished by life's blessings. Shine!

Those rocks that stub your toe and lay you out cold, that take and take and lie and fake? Leave them in the dirt where they belong. They will never shine for you. They will only ever cheat and lie and remain soiled. You are deserving of better than that.

….

Just had a call from a research company asking me to do a survey on the Qld Utilities. What the actual fuck. People pay taxes and rates to have clean and clear running sewerage and now the govt expects the public to answer surveys on a necessary public service. What?!!

I told her this was more govt sponsored insanity and I am not comfortable with doing the survey. Like what had my age range got to do with hot and cold running shit and blocked drains. Fuck off. Idiots! Needless to say I was being recorded.

Sewerage is a sore spot with me. It took 9 years for Housing to fix my plumbing issues. Now Qld Utilities responsible for the council side of the problem outsource to do surveys???

5 January 2016

I went out into the rain to take the garbage bins out. Dark and wet but a peaceful night. Socks followed me out, even though he too, got wet.

I told him to come back inside as I thought he was going off on one of his adventures. Instead he silently followed me to my fishpond to marvel at the goldfish enjoying the rain. Then when I went in the house, he lay down at the back door. Funny boy!

…

My face is full of pimples, like a teenager. I am trying to figure out what has brought this on. I have been using a hand wash that is medicated sanitiser. I think it might be giving me a bad reaction. Weird thing is I don't use it on my face. Just my hands. It might just be menopause hormones too.

…

Utterly exhausted but glad I had a nice New Year so far :-).

…

I have booked Beauregard in for his 2nd Parvo vaccine at 2.30 pm tomorrow. I think I will get him microchipped as well.

It will be such a relief to know he is covered and I will be able to take him out in the world for walks and to the small dog park behind me.

He had a marvellous time playing with Harvey and Jarrod yesterday. He was so excited, it got a bit over the top.

We had a nice dinner together. Sausages, steak (thanks Annette!) salad, and home made wedges. I also baked a cheesecake with a gluten free biscuits base so Jarrod could enjoy a nice dessert.

Jarrod brought me another Siamese fish named Stimpy. Ren is forthcoming. The big blue Mexican jug I put Stimpy in was leaking but we didn't realise for a while, until the water was all over the floor and the power points. Lucky we weren't electrocuted. We thought the water was getting low in his new jug because both Sophie and Socks were drinking out of it!

Quickly I rescued the fish, into another bowl, mopped up the floors etc.

5 January 2015

This afternoon and evening I had a lovely time with Jarrod and Crystal. They brought sausages and salads and other goodies and Jarrod used my Weber to cook for us all.

Then we sat and ate in the beautiful still balmy evening and admired the moon and the stars. Harvey the mini foxy and Mushu the runt hung out. The grand rabbits were in their pen and we even had a visit from one of my "pet" possums hoping for a piece of apple. Crystal gave him some from the lovely salad she made.

I was in a lot of pain in my legs, feet and hips and mentally shattered from ending my friendship with the game-player, but it was lovely to be surrounded by my lovely family of humans and pets. Even the scrub turkey, BB (bastard buzzard) got in on the action, chasing Harvey, and the chooks. I made home-made ice cream (rather disappointed with the cheap ice-cream maker I bought) but it was not as nice as I anticipated.

Never mind, I had a great time!

5 January 2014

Tabitha is alive, eating and drinking. She is still weak but able to walk around. I've put her outside with Elvira.

However I am very sick. Just took 2 prednisone. No wonder all I could manage yesterday were heaps of snoozes. I thought it was exhaustion from dancing but no, it's my lungs. I might need to see doctor for antibiotics on payday as I have lots of icky phlegm.

I think I will just sleep today.

Sherry Paris aka “Sherrybaby” from Paltalk:

If I was your mother I'd tie you in bed, pour water down your throat, toss a couple asperin and vitamin C down, cover you up and walk out! Woman you gotta quit runnin around crazy and get well!!!! *whew*

5 January 2014

Thank you, Sarah, Keith and Max for the Gold Class tickets to The Hobbit. I have never been to Gold Class before and was rather luxurious having food and drink brought out to Crystal and I.

Keith lent us Costumes to wear for a costume competition and the cloak he lent to Crystal was an original from the movie and cost $3000. We got to parade the costumes for the movie-goers. We had a lovely time.

I was so exhausted from dancing all night last night at the pub then the casino that I kept snoozing lol. I also have a nasty cold. But it was great we got to participate in The Hobbit experience.

5 January 2011

I found some old lacey curtains from Mum's I'd packed in one of my cupboards, so I brought them out (there were 4 which is marvellous) and hung them on the end of my metal 4 poster bed. I had to re-hang my necklaces and assorted schmontzes I've collected over the years on the curtain rings, so it took a lot of sorting but I'm impressed with my efforts.

I also got some swivels out from my bead collection and put them on the hanging toys etc, so now I can have them facing any direction I like. (A bit perfectionist but now I feel good as it used to annoy me when I was lying at bed at all my little decorations and they weren't hanging right).

Now my bed is surrounded by decadent lace and trinkets, it is most definitely a NO MAN ZONE! Only one man was brave and artistic enough to lie in my bed with all my feminine and unusual things, and even he used to leave like greased lightning by 6 am. Mwahahahahhaha.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons