Memories: 13 November 2023

13 November 2023

3:54 am I haven’t slept again. I upset myself over another superficial trickster game player. So that’s over.

I am cooking chicken pieces in my air fryer. I didn’t eat since lunchtime yesterday. So perhaps if I fill my guts I will be able to sleep.

I spent the night watching my own videos, trying to figure out where or how I attracted more psychic vermin into my life? No real answer to that question…just an ever spiralling hell loop stuck on a groove somewhere.

Tomorrow I will recalibrate my life. Focus on going dancing again on Friday. Something to look forward to. Holding my own and dancing wildly in the face of Evil, heartache, fake people, psychopaths, sadists.

I don’t even know how this new shade managed to slither under my skin. He seemed lovely too. The disappointment turns my veins to dust.

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11.08 pm I have felt very weak, dizzy and breathless today. Smashed by an almost supernatural Darkness, no doubt compounded by visiting the holocaust museum yesterday.

I rested in bed most of the day, but in the afternoon, as the light breezes flowing through my windows began to cool my bedroom I got enervated by that strange enlivening energy that is visiting me fairly often lately, usually when I am feeling very close to the portal between life and death.

So I lay in bed but put on my favourite songs and sang along to them which helped move the energetic congestion out of my lungs. I even belted out a few tunes quite lustily, on occasion.

Then I got an urge to dance so I got out of bed, made a cup of tea and danced for a short while before sort of collapsing with exhaustion at my dining table. So I played more songs and just sang along or quietly meditated on my strange new existence.

Then oddly, although weak as a kitten and quite dizzy I decided to make homemade yoghurt with my new electric yoghurt maker. This was very stressful as I had to calibrate the thermometer (Arghhh) then heat the milk to 90 degrees Celsius and maintain it at that temperature for ten minutes then cool it to 40 degrees. It took me forever (well actually about an hour!) but the yoghurt is fermenting and I have done some washing also. Now I am back in bed !

I tried to make a video for YouTube but my blasted iPhone has run out of storage and although I spent most of today deleting hundreds of photos, iCloud is reinstalling them so I am back to square one.

To pay out the contract out so I could upgrade my iPhone will cost $1080! So I have a defunct iPhone, no money and now no way to keep creating ny YouTube journaling. So irritating!

But I suppose life will go on. It’s just one more epic struggle but I will survive. Until I don’t!

I hope my first batch of yoghurt turns out tomorrow night. I am fermenting it for 24 hours. I put both the probiotic and the culture in and I hope that doesn’t make it too thick (although I wanted it to be thick!).

Anyway time to schluff. I didn’t get much sleep last night so that’s two bad nights I have had in the past week. It’s frightening how my body decompensates when I don’t have enough sleep. I struggled to clean the fishpond filter today, as I was so weak.

I might have to pay a kid from the neighbourhood to help me out with that little job. But I am hoping I get better 🙂

13 November 2022

I failed at the markets again. I have a 3 strike rule so now I am done. However the organisers put me right next to another silversmith lady whose workmanship is superb. She very generously gave me tips on where to buy cheaper silversmithing supplies and what torch to buy. A very kind sweet younger woman, with her own serious health issues.

So today was not a total waste as the passive aggressive move to put me next to another member of my “guild” that I aspire to, had me networking instead.

I had a good day talking to the other stall holders and bought some handmade knickers from the lady beside me.

I am heartsick that my stuff didn’t sell. But I will continue to make silver jewellery as and when I can afford the supplies as it sparks joy and I will keep things as gifts or for myself.

Maybe when times get better, if ever…I could try another market somewhere.

I often struggle with my timing in life vis a vis wealth (or basic income creation!) and love partnerships so there must be something really evil and karmic at play.

As usual I will lick my wounds, recalibrate my meagre resources and soldier on in whatever direction the universe sends me on next.

11:11 am.. dear goddess..help me…thrive. Amen v’ selah.

4:50 am awake after about an hours sleep. Not good. I don’t know how I will get through my day at the markets. A veritable zombie in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. I prayed to all the gods to let me rest so I can cope later today. I get one hour!

The anxiety and high activation happens every time I am expected or choose to try to “work”, to prosper in any aspect of my life. So exhausting and so debilitating. I deserve to do well in life…but my cptsd brain won’t allow it. Or the Dybbuk. Or both.

13 November 2020

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Restrictions are easing. Outdoor dancing at music festivals will be allowed from 17 November. I wonder how long it will be until dancing is permitted again at the casino?

I have gained 2 kgs from not dancing.

Which means Mama T will have to play loud music at home and dance my tribalist stomp more often. I have missed dancing!

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Fml. My gp insisted I have a referral for yet another colonoscopy. I refused it a year ago. I guess it is a high risk of bowel cancer with my proclivity for growing adenomas (polyps). Gross! But I have submitted to that invasive procedure. (Just in case!).

I have to get my referral to the Cannibis Doctors clinic done by my psychiatrist (which means I have to wait two more weeks).

I also am going to have a liver scan.

Thanks Louise x I feel a bit fragile as it normally takes me 2-3 months to recover from a colonoscopy. So I am utterly dreading it. Hopefully it will not be happening for a few more months . Arrghhh Yuck!

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13 November 2019

The moon is full. I have been poring over old writings on fb. Trying to work out where things went wrong and where things went right and trying to activate the groove and recalibrate the timelines. But who am I? Only the Dickhead Psychedelic Dreamer!

I can’t believe I am doing this life?...still...after everything. Sober. Unmedicated. But then I realised I have been gifted with a great deal of spiritual/energy healing in recent months. From beautiful souls who See me and wish me well.

As healing takes time to process. It can take a millisecond or a lifetime. But I have seen changes: in my own heart and mind: life going on and starting to make sense.

I must be patient. Have faith. Trust. In Life. In the gods. In my dearest Champions who light me up then send me back out into the fray: day by day. Moment by moment.

Kissing the memory. Lighting the way of the psychedelic dreamer: even as she struggles.

Thank you. I love you. I am sorry. Please forgive me.

This effort, this work, this ephemeral Love must not be wasted. I will transmute this. Somehow, some day!

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I just watched Joker with Lyn. This is the single most brilliant film about mental health, marginalisation, abuse, anarchy, narcissism I have ever seen.

I have lived many aspects of this character. I feel triggered as Arthur played by Joachim Phoenix looked so much like a former lover. His mother was a narcissist and I completely related when he finally snapped.

Brilliant! Startling, sanctifying and miraculous. There but for the grace of God went I!!!

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20 weeks after my surgery I notice that my hair is getting thicker or feels stronger. I was so very weak after the surgery, so utterly broken and devastated at having to fight so hard for myself at my most vulnerable. So angry at the PA hospital and Qld Health and our systemic abusive government. So utterly alone and so very unwell.

My body still struggles as I cannot process too much sugar or oil without my gall bladder. So any edible aberrations causes diarrhoea, skin breakouts, severe depression and stomach pain usually manifesting three or four days after eating the bad things.

I know better but I self harm in a way as I love my greasy foods occasionally. I have “released” some weight as I have to eat healthier these days or suffer the consequences. This is my new “normal”. It is not pleasant. But it beats living in fear of gall bladder attacks which are so painful and distressing it feels like dying. So my squally gall is gone but my errant Chutzpah remains.

I have thrown myself into self-healing. As is my wont. 3 weeks after my surgery when I was still quite weak I went to a drumming circle and have attended every month since. I have “ecstatic danced” but not as often as with my bad health came the usual loss of money. I got dogged by evil spirits so lost a few too many pets as well.

So it’s been a physical/financial/ spiritual battle and I have been fighting back with a Buddhist puja, a shamanic circle, my own offerings to the “spirits that love me” each morning for the past few weeks, resting, praying, writing my daily journal on fb as I always do, healing, healing, healing....ad nauseum.

I feel like I am recovering, turning a corner (as long as I don’t indulge in chips or KFC or fish and chips or too much chocolate)

But I am healing in other ways: my libido is whistling a weird cosmic tune, my heart is longing for the usual dead shit and it does not help that he is still “spying” on me occasionally. Zombie...zoooombie...Zombie! Alas, we know them so well....

It makes it hard to detach completely which has been my focus in recent months. Holding on while letting go. Slip sliding away. Vortices of Love so powerful that it is well...crazy making.

I smile at my kinstugied heart. No one with any sense would DARE fuck with it. But lovers don’t always have any sense and the spiritual-heart attachment can be a strong bond: beyond time-space-reason. The ghost in the machine.

I have had a few delightful kind men model what being treated courteously, honourably and with deep reverence for my femaleness, my wildness and my unique reconfigured Brokenness looks like. This too has been a healing and deep joy and balm to my soul which really really really wanted to just leave permanently but could not as I have my animals who I brought into my home and life and I know they would suffer without me.

I have my few rare and precious humans who would miss me and I have my naïve and romantic and rather silly Hope that real love might claim me one fine day and my life will be different and better and who knows...I might find a way to prosper in all my undertakings instead of splonging around in the shadowlands, dependant on the government for my pension and home. A lotto win would be nice so I could be Free of this financial child-like dependency which has both cosseted me and kept me a prisoner.

For no man wants a Disability pensioner, a Berserker, a frail older woman isolated by poverty and the Deep State. So they come and play their cruel vicious trickster games and I just yawn and observe as no one is better than I, even in my destitution and restitution and reconfigured constitution. Oy!

I have Soul but I am not a Soldier. I stand to attention only for the capricious whimsical weird gods and they tip me down the rabbit hole so often that I don’t even know what Side is up. Arseless, Classless Fecund Flowing of effluent. That is my life. But out of Shit beautiful things grow.

I am fertile with creativity unmanifested, with a body that still enjoys the delights of the flesh (in moderation) - that might still be made love to with wild passion but a deep commitment some day. I am a Warrior Goddess, wild and freely manifesting my glory in big and small ways.

I am no longer riding shotgun with Lady Death. She is always near but she is taking a back seat for a while. Watching and waiting for her precious Little One to “get a life”.

I tip my hat to the curtain. A slow wink and graceful curtsey. Wait for me...? A nod then She turns back to the lower world. Breathes.... we got this...again!

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13 November 2018

Same thing happened in Hamburg in Summer July 1943. Phosphor bombs dropped on the city which intensified the summer heat. Peoples bodies shrank to 2 feet long like charred dolls.

My mother dreamt it while billeted in Bavaria and 2 weeks prior to the attack begged her parents to escape the city. They slept rough on the outskirts, near the forest for 2 nights.

My grandfather Erich was very ill with tuberculosis. He died on my birth date 12 April 1945 2 weeks before the war ended. But my mother’s precognitive dream had kept him and Eva alive that sultry evil night in July 1943.

As for shellshock, my mother later married a NZ airman named John Jarman who lost his shit on board ship heading to NZ with my 6 year old half sister and Gisela. He tried to push my mother overboard and my sister saved her mother by pulling on her legs and screaming for help. Pulling while Jarman pushed. A terrifying ordeal.

Jarman was put in the ships brig for the remainder of the voyage but continued to beat my mother until she eventually begged the NZ RSL for assistance. They threw her out of their office calling her a “dirty Nazi”. This was in 1956! Eventually the Salvation Army helped her get a divorce.

Apparently army wives regardless of nationality were good enough to fuck and be beaten and/or have their children Raped or molested (Although to be fair I don’t think he molested Angela, that trauma came later when our mother met Trevor Singh.

There is no excuse for raping children: not even ptsd or shellshock. One still knows the consequence of one’s actions. Choosing to perpetrate harm on women and children is an evil perversion: war or no war.

I still find it utterly disgusting that Angela was not protected and that in turn she also refused to protect me as her infant sister.

I look forward to meeting them all Hell some day. Cowards and vile predators: All of them!

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Well I have got through this day. 6:03 pm all is well. I dragged my stressed assets to the local Woolworths to buy toilet paper. $103 later I came home with some food as well.

I sat on the couch knitting Oberon, King of the Forest Fae. Then took Beauregard and Charlie for a walk around the block. I also watched Outlaw King while knitting. Now my hands and joints ache but all good.

Beautiful evening. Sun is starting to set. The night is mine...my precious!

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Watching Outlaw King which is about Robert Bruce and Sir James Douglas “Black Douglas”.

Wondering why my Scottish forebears keep reminding me of them? I saw the spirit of Black Douglas several weeks ago. The first time I had ever “seen” a spirit with awake and aware eyes.

I am rather perturbed as I have no ken what he wants with me? Perhaps the next lover I meet is Scottish? Lmao!

Perhaps I am being made ready for yet another spiritual (or physical?) battle.

Curious and curiouser!

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Feeling stressed. People I love are going through major struggles right now. All I can do is sit in my garden and pray. I hate feeling so helpless.

13 November 2016

Yesterday I found out my skin cancer Dr that hacked at my flesh with the empathy of a butcher has retired. Good. Cunt!

Then that my darling friend is being provided a newer better car and that his mother (about fucking time!) is helping him. This after a lifetime of neglect and abuse as his stepfather blocked and stymied him from success.

A similar refrain to the way my family of enemies damaged me. But now at least for my friend, his mother is finally waking from her sleep of long term abuse and is doing some small measures to make things right by her only remaining son.

I rejoice for him. Too little so very late but at least it has begun. The healing.

For we have suffered and struggled. As a son and daughter. We have had to support each other. Love each other. Be strong for each other. Survivors of other men's hatred and envy. We were far better children. Men and women. My friend and I.

We sat at their deathbeds. Held them precious as they slipped into the next dimension. Our enemies. Our tormentors. Our demented fucks we gave our hearts and minds to, as we were so good. So very good. Our rewards? Hardly fiscal. Visceral spiritual warrior garments of fiery angelic lights.

My precious.

The cosmic joke. The backward twirling psychedelic swirl of the Heyoka. Know before whom you Stand. Shape up, sit down, lie down, stand and deliver.

Dance. Dance faster, Harder. Die. Death to the past. Rebirth into a new skin. A new life. New love that burns stronger, brighter, with a smoking smouldering purity that our enemies must wear sunglasses to protect their vision from. Ha!

Givenchy fake glasses by the thousand. Fuck you Buck Scherer. You conned and lied, destroyed. Stole from the abused to enrich you salacious greedy putrid spawn. And now! You and yours bear the curse. And I? Am free. To go. To come. To be. Who I am becoming. Awesome. Spectacular. Full of life and a happiness sublime and hardwon! Worth it!

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7:11 pm. I also saw 11:11 am. 4:11 5:11 etc. The elevenses have me in their thrall. Last time I saw so many elevens shit got real.

I am experiencing a major shift. Have been for several weeks now. Alert and aware of all the bullshit but in true Tanya Style rising above it or kicking the shit to death. Hohum. Tiddly Pom.

Next...

I have had a nice shower. Washed my hair. Tempted to go out as the moon/storm are calling me. I wonder if anything is happening tonight. Sunday Bloody Sunday. Hmmmm. Or watch Netflix/Stan and drink my cheap wine I bought.

Tomorrow morning I have to take my car to be serviced. So probably wise to stay home and go to bed early. Arrrghhh. Decision made.

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3 drops of rain then blew over. Fuck!!! Now it is a rising super moon, and supercharged ions from another non-event leaving me high and dry.

Only thing I can do but Howllll.

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Weird! Supermoon. Supercell storm north Brisbane (missed me at Holland Park). Large earthquake and now tsunami in NZ and Chatham islands respectively.

Kelly Anne: The moon I can accept easily as coincidence but anything that coincides about Earth systems (Climate & Geological events) just scares the shit outta me... and for good reason since I studied this stuff!

Me: Everything is Interconnected imo

Kelly Anne: Such a pity that about half the world's current leaders just don't seem to get it...Lol. The man is not happy with just setting off local political activist activity, he's gotta go & set off global seismic activity... Well I suppose overreacting IS his style really, isn't it???

Me: Well I abhor Trump as much as any sane decent person but I don't think he is personally responsible for today's superstorm and earthquake. Let's be rational, folks. Lol. However the trauma/shock/disbelief and grief of millions of people around the world at his election does have the capacity to shift the fabric of nature. So maybe um. Dump the Trump.

Also. While "they" were introducing him to the red button of Doomsday they might let him fiddle about a bit with the HAARP buttons. I see an orange wig playing weather games with our future.

Now...that is just a conspiracy theory on my part. Also my brain is melting from the heat and the ionospheric betrayal of today.

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7.5 earthquake just north of Christchurch. Felt strongly by Nigel in Paraparaumu. So Wellington would have felt it strongly too. Nigel says he felt his whole building move. He is near the sea so went to check for tsunami warnings as he may need to move to higher ground.

Scary shit! I advised him to get blankets, drinking water and tinned food for him and pets in the event of bad aftershocks. They may lose power etc.

Hammer Springs earthquake downgraded to 6.6.

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The humidity intensifies.. Sweat pours down from (of all places!) my chin, shifts down my neck, pools and mingles with the sweat under my breasts. Lovely.

Another afternoon storm required, possibly impending as it builds to a crescendo. Lovely. That, or De Mama will be taking a cold shower.

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People not things. Prosperity of consciousness not poverty of thought. Love not hate or fear of death or destruction. Letting go of vapid superficial fucks. Declension of tension. Rinse and release. Increase the freedom from oppression, from slavery of the heart and mind, from false friends, false loves.

Breathe. Dive into the depths of emotion and resurface, cleansed, beautiful and ennobled. Naked. Sacred. Unsullied by the attachments of past foes. Laugh. Rejoice. Be the silent voice that screams the songs of our people. Our worlds. Of eternity.

Hair flying in the winds of time and space. Apogee moon. Bringing the Light to the darkest deepest shadows. Brightest sun burning the husks of unrepentant lost dross.

My dying outer shell, hacked and sliced by skin cancer specialists, and my inner void created my birthings and gynaecologists and psychopaths everywhere, shaken and stirred. Reclaimed. Purged. Resurged.

This is my body. My mind. My soul floats above the shit and the shitless. Kisses my flesh with a million dreams. Heals. A gratitude only partly understood slides through me like molten ice cream.

Why this grace in the face of such cruelty? To know and to appreciate the one truth over all. The One. The Only. The triumph and the glory. Those who tried to bind us have left our lives.

We grieved their parting. The loss of a love we deserved that was never given that went with them. We clothed ouselves in their residual shit. After all, we worked for it. Starved for it. Gave and gave and gave so they could holiday in Venice, and throw us sacks of potatoes and render us homeless, loveless, luckless and faithless.

Fuck you Gisela. Fuck you paedophiles and the fakirs of love everywhere.

I was not supposed to survive you. But I have. And now??? What?!

I shall Become the Becoming. The beautiful. The free. The wise. In my isolation and long Loved grief. A thief in the night. Stole even my depression.

What is left from this cosmic chafing? Other people's cats, discarded memories, old rotting furniture and unsellable collectibles. Other people's envies. Calamities. Paucities. The repositories of lust.

Not yours. No longer mine.

I release all blocks barriers, sabotage to my true life with my true love(s). I heal to the 10th generation before me. I stand alone in the maelstromic cacophonic orchestral music of the spheres. I see you. The Eternal. The lies. The betrayals. The deceptions.

I weep. With tears that smear the plastic fantastic shellacked corpse I carry with me. But with eyes that see through eons the only truth, the authentic vibrant Being. That never close and never open. Shielded and protected. Forever. Bliss.

13 November 2015

3.11 am Laila Tov/ Boker Tov. Time to snooze. Karen is coming to visit me today :-).

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1.11am Make a wish!

13 November 2014

At Gail's, drinking Jack Daniels with coke, I scratched the back of my head. I felt something scaly there. I asked Gail to have a look. We pulled it off. Yup! Another tick. Dead and still attached to my head. Thank god for Jack Daniels. I think the alcohol killed that bloodsucker.

However I was feeling a bit fey the past few days. All the toxins he'd been pumping into my skull. Gail said "I never met a person has been bitten by so many ticks as you Tanya".

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I have velcro-collared Mischief late this arvo. I will know in a few hours if it muffles his voice or not. He really hated the collar. If it doesn't work I will have send him to a farm.

13 November 2012

Ave Lilith and Morgana, two of my beautiful hens who were taken last night.

Little Hecate survives ....

Trip to Montville was lovely but coming home to two less Hens still painful.

13 November 2011

We had spent the arvo at Margaret and Geoff's farm in Trunkey Creek which was truly beautiful. Then saw the Three Sisters on the way home just as the setting sun was casting a golden light on the 3 ladies. It was incredible!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons