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Memories: 2 January 2024

Hang in there, Kid…we’ve got you! Much Love from the Multiverses!)

By Tanya Arons Published 3 months ago Updated 3 months ago 21 min read
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2 January 2024

Margot and Susie visited with Rosie, their Labrador, in the afternoon. I was so happy to see them. I missed Rosie sooo much while they were in the US. We had lots of cuddles and scratches.

In the late afternoon I repaired my asparagus server ring (it had two small splits). It turned out great. I also made some sterling silver pendants in the shot presses I bought about a month ago. That kept me busy until 9 pm then I cooked dinner. Spaghetti bolognese.

2 January 2023

2 January 2022

I just saw 11:11 pm then 11:22 pm (on 2/1/2022. Hmmm the angels are demanding my attention and to be ready for action.

Pity I wore myself out with the paua, both cutting and accidentally inhaling ffs.

Tomorrow will be a rest day. I will have to enforce my own rest!

Laila Tov Kulam!

I felt so feverish then chilled to the bone after my shower that I have had to don a cardigan. It’s 20•c. So not especially cold. This means I have inhaled too much shell dust even with my respirator. Fuck! But still breathing even though my body has reacted immediately.

Three shells are still to be cut up but I think I will put them away until I can afford a better respirator. The gods might be calling me “Home” with all the Paua that remind me of childhood but I will not cede this body easily.

I now have to invest in a proper HEPA filtered mask as I now have a headache from still managing to inhale shell dust even though I wore my respirator the whole time.

I need a shower as the dust is all through my hair.

I stopped on my walk to chat to Ailsa and she invited me in and asked me when I was going to cut off all my hair? I said “Look I know I look awful right now, as I literally just finished cutting shells so the dust clings to the oil in my hair like a sponge!….it will look better after I wash it, I promise!”

She smiled and said I will never give up on my long hair with a resigned sweet old lady voice….I grinned triumphantly and said “No, as it’s taken me a lifetime to get it this long…”. She sighed again.

True love means she tolerates me with my boho shell-stained hair. However do not ever put a pair of scissors in her hands as she might just cut my hair after all!

2 January 2021

I just watched “Dispatches From Elsewhere” on Amazon Prime. It’s quite wonderful.

I decided to stay home from dancing as my feet and legs ache and I could not be bothered getting made up and dressed and rushing out like a mad fool to impress no one but myself. Also I dreaded the parking issues and I suppose, not really in the mood. (Although this morning I envisaged me stomping my tribal stomp in my usual spot).

I have been cutting up paper In Preparation to make pulp and have been tired all day so that is enough.

I will go out dancing next weekend. Hopefully things will be calmer and my mood more enhanced. If not...not.

I am no longer going to force myself to show up when my body tells me to take things easy. I can’t risk my health.

It gets a bit lonely on my couch with my paper projects and my dog but it’s better then wearing myself out in the scene.

I have nothing to prove and my heart is mine and my nonchalance is...Divine. A timely message from the movie I just watched!

Oh and I have the quote from Rumi in my mind...”what you are seeking is also seeking you”. Well “they” know where to find me when they have done their “work” and can meet me at my level.

If they choose not to be a part of my psychedelic dreaming that is totally fine. The dream exists with and without that person 🙂.

The Tanya is grateful for the exponential and rather exquisite healing but She must sleep now. “Work” to do in the astral.

Peace out!

I think I will dance tonight. Hopefully there is a band on and less crowds and free parking.

Perspective and perspicacity is a Perspex complicity of complexity. Or summat ‘lak tha’!!!

Still miss the sea...daily.

Tanya

Margaret Jakovac: Wow ... Decades of friendship ...so sorry I had no idea of the trauma n abuse during those early years ... At that time. Hugs

Me: how could you know? I was not able to speak of it as a child (had been threatened with murder if I did). Hence Lynne and I popped the bonnet of his Humber Hawk and tried to locate the brake line.

My greatest regret was we were children and did not know how to cut a brake line.

Then Cees came into my mother’s life and he was no better. Constant threats of molestation and rape.

I was still “asleep at the wheel” when I helped him die with dignity and attended his funeral and scattered his ashes.

All those childish letters I wrote to you. Many were practically dictated by Gisela. I recognise her phrasing in them.

It was like being a prisoner of war. If I had written the truth of what they were doing to me they probably really would have killed me.

Instead they killed my soul and robbed me of everything. Evil dirty cunts

Margaret Jakovac: Sheesh horrible channelling

Me: It happens to be all true too. But not many dare face it so I was well hated for standing in my own honour and integrity. It has cost me a half sister and a daughters. But fuck their narcissism and abusive denial.

But I got me back. Making shredded paper and pulp today out of left over children’s books I cut pictures out of.

Those trees will not have died in vain as I am upcycling them as much as I can!

From 2020:

My beloved best male friend, now an adopted brother to me! 28 years of friendship in February. Amazing. He has stood by me through so much horror, a witness to my madness, my glory and my struggles against the evil oppression of a wicked greedy family, my own and those they married.

Look how young he was! My dog Leila (a wild untrained dog of hell that almost killed my mother by dragging her on the road in front of oncoming trucks) adored Jarrod.

She loved to cuddle on his lap forgetting she was no longer a tiny puppy. I also had a rainbow lorikeet that loved to hump Jarrod's toes in an attempt at Domination. He saw him as a rival for The Tanya's affections. Funny times.

My husband adored Jarrod too. He would go searching for him (stalking!) on the roads of Capalaba and bring him home for dinner and to keep me company. Very odd thing to do. Bring a young handsome man home to impress one's depressed wife.

He set me up very early in the piece to leave. But Jarrod never played into his game and was loyal to his morals and our rich and beautiful friendship. A real man. Decent. Kind. Strong.

My mother tried to turn him into one of her henchmen also. He rose above it. She begged him to make a sign for her market business. He made himself the Moon in the Tarot deck and smiled down whimsically upon her.

"I know vat he is doing, Tanya, I am not stoopid!" She hissed. But she used the sign anyway. In the end we smiled through all her adverse perversity.

She tried to Bribe him with my bride price of "twenty dollars". This was too much for him. He remained my friend until we broke up for a few years. To recalibrate and discover new horrors. So great and painful that I begged him to be my friend again.

So here we are. Older. Wiser. Even more beautiful than in our youth as we have seasoned with the vicissitudes of time and a love that is more powerful and long lasting than romantic love.

A bond that has strengthened and reinforced over 25 years. He still sees through my occasional bullshit. Still sees me as I am.

One of the greatest gifts a human can have. A true and steadfast friend. A guide and protector. An ally. Someone who knows all your buttons and how to turn them from pain to laughter in a split second. A hero.

2 January 2020

11:11 pm. J’espere, mon frere. (I hope, Brother)

Back from the shops which took every ounce of my remaining strength. Now lying in my hammock as heat exhausted and weak. I wonder how much longer I can endure these gut issues?

Ridiculous way to end my “story”. Mind you I have suffered like this since I was 16 so 39 years of trauma and gut issues is quite enough methinks.

However, I will read a good book and try to look on the bright side of my absurdist shitty existence.

“The Guernsey Literary and Potato peel Pie Society” hopefully will absorb my mind away from my tzores for a few days or weeks.

I just read the introduction and the story is set on Guernsay where “Mermaid” or Annie hailed from. So I have not heard from her for a couple of years so any of my old Paltalk friends see her online tell Annie I still love her! She loved Guernsay but lived in Wales with her husband.

Never mind, just left her an offline message. Hopefully she gets it.

Update 2 Jan 2021: Glad to have reconnected with Annie in recent months. Love you “mermaid” x

Just missed a lovely photo of the King Parrot pair as Bobo demon dog chased them away just as I ran out with my iPhone. Grrr. They were singing out to Charlie and I and are so beautiful.

I put some leftover laying mash I had from when Betty was still alive out for the birds (and no doubt Possums) to eat. They might as well enjoy the food.

11:11 am finally out of bed. Still sick. Fuck!! But alive in the Dreaming squalling nightmare that is Summer in Queensland.

2 January 2019

Lady King Parrot is here. Sitting in a tree near me. Fairly close. I am amazed how friendly they are. I was listening to a show about HeartMath on Gaia and the volume was quite loud. She is not at all Afraid. Perhaps because she sees Charlie on the table with me! Delightful!

I had been worried about her as only her male King had been visiting. So she is well and happy like all Queens should be!

I had my debrief with my doctor this afternoon. I told him that both his, and my childhood friend's intuition were correct about my ex lover showing up at the casino to stare at me with his henchmen.

I told my doctor about the great pain I had to push through when he showed up last time, along with ex friends who watched like ghouls but I held my space. My integrity. My strength. He told me I have always lived my life in defiance of all my abusers, past and current and it's a beautiful thing.

In all the horror and trauma I have never given up on myself. Even when it seemed inevitable. I have always risen above the falseness and the filth.

This year is going to be amazing for me. I will make it so. Even alone and in poverty is preferential to expending heart and mind on evil selfish cruel people. I win by living my life in such a way that brings me peace and happiness and I will eventually attract better, kinder, more honourable people.

Time is on my side. I have plenty of time to manifest my higher desires with the grace of god and good people who value, appreciate and respect me.

2 January 2018

7:18 pm. Rain at last! So refreshing after the sullen heat.

I have spent the day finishing decoupaging Crystal’s Clown suitcase. I am very happy with the result. I used old greeting cards, old children’s picture books, old stamps, old stickers. It looks amazing.

Now I need to buy the special resin to do the final coating. Maybe tomorrow. I wanted it finished before I see Crystal. She arrives tomorrow but I doubt I will see her right away as her friends are picking her up from the airport.

More time to complete the case!

Day 2 of 2018. It has begun with such a blast of Love and positivity. All my friends on Facebook and in real time are ennobled by it. I have not seen such mass awakening for many years. My heart feels open and grateful.

This year is going to bring humanity such joy. Last year we were cracked open like shucked oysters with so much horror, forced to look at the filthy actions of powerful men and some of their female enablers.

It rocked the lives of many who had to, perhaps for the first time confront their fears, the deep scathing scarifying cost of maintaining silence, so much that the conjoined screams of grief of the masses of women and male victims moved upon the earth like a vainglorious tsunami.

But now we shall shift gears into creating a better, safer, more abundant world for all the Earth. Gaia, our Mother demands it. I personally Demand it.

We all need this. We lay down our deep rage, borne of decades of despair and trauma and horror, borne of war, famine, poverty, disease and social injustices.

We raise up the Light of Love, Natural Justice, Cosmic Consciousness and we turn our jellied glutinous rage into something wild and beautiful. We lift up the fallen, broken and forgotten.

If they can no longer speak their Truths or sing their songlines, we, the people of the earth, star beings seeded here by ancient gods of other universes, we shall speak and sing for them. We shall dance the unspoken agonies and the long awaited triumphs. We shall fly!

When one of us lays down in abject exhaustion or dejection, we shall leave behind a legacy, a template of such miraculous hope and hand our blazing flames of Light, of strength, of courage, of honour to those around us who can continue the journey to raising our global Consciousness and bring more Love to this Earth.

When I began this life, there were few who understood or appreciated my intention, my life path. I was deemed worthless and was oppressed by so much evil. But the past few years have shown me that humanity is waking up. Cleansing itself of the unholy past. Choosing Love and Life. Starting to breathe free again.

A miracle! I am humbled and grateful to be a witness to it and in my own tiny way to have been a Voice, calling my fellow strugglers, strivers back from the depths of the abyss, helping to raise each other up, to rise and to shine in our own unique humanity and our own intrinsic divinity.

This year we will see great miracles. They may be as tiny as a blue butterfly like yesterday. Or the touch of a newborn’s majestic nascent hand. Or Love pouring through a lover’s eyes, undimmed by Time or personality flaws (lol!! Dream on Psychedelic Dreamer!)

Of course it is a Dream. But my eyes are always open to the Dreaming and the rebirthing of other realities: that is my personal Magic! Show me yours! It brings me such Joy!

One more sleep! Sigh!

I had trouble sleeping last night. Euphoria after our wonderful day at Coochiemudlo Island. Then the intense power of that fabulous moon. Then hot and cold flashes from menopause (even with hrt ffs!)

Then belching like a wharfie with acid reflux (I am on a stronger dose of acid reflux medication so might as well not bother as it does little to alleviate the symptoms!)

But did I mention u-for-eeya! I have not felt this happy in months. So that is a great start to the New Year. Just another day in Paradise.

I am sitting in the garden with Charlie and The Beau. Another storm is threatening. Black clouds hanging like Dementors. But what? Me worry? The air is thick and humid. Like breathing in chunky soup! But who cares?

We are content in our garden, my tiny fur/feathered/fin family and I!

2 January 2017

My adolescence consisted of me being dressed in Drag. Now in my early 50s I am a drag. Love my corsets though, biker jacket and if Crystal keeps her promise I will soon be sporting a Top Hat.

3 more days of antibiotics. Dry socket much better but still painful at times. Fingers crossed this ordeal is over soon and I don't require more antibiotics. Being constantly sick and in pain is gruelling and I observed that now I am older I can tolerate it less. Healing takes longer too. But I am strong. Annoyingly strong.

I would like to just float away like a dandelion flower and land on some soft comforting fertile ground and begin again. But rebirthings are such hard work too. The process of reconstructing from oblivion, a peculiar kind of hell which is spectacular in the dichotomous heaven that is perceived when consciousness takes over.

Life is illusion! Razzle dazzle them with refracted light on a sparkling diamond formed from stiff lumps of coal under intense heat and pressure. Or the cracked mirror on the wall whose minion begs to know who is the most beautiful and beloved in the world.

Twists of fate and knives of truth, glory to the gods and only half the story. Love eternal and infernal. Lost and won and flushed away with the sweat and grind of better days.

Hope, a solicitous legal drug, the only opiate of the masses as religion brings no safety now. Too many competing philosophies not worthy of human consumption (hack!)

Even the gods won't let me out of this life with gentleness, with all-consuming passion, with the balm of real love. Fuckers!!! But I live to love even more than yesterday.

Love my life, my light and my alienation from a world gone mad and mollycoddled with booze, sex, drugs and distraction. See me. Look me in the eyes, the windows to my soul and see me! Lol! Or don't.

I exist with or without you in another time and another place the faceless hag that beckons you to abide awhile, cool your heels and smites your derision and pomposity.

Poverty and trauma begets royalty of spirit. Know before whom you stand and spit and curse. Can you hear the echoes of laughter past and future, slamming together in a vortex of silence. Waves of synchopated delight.

I fell off my perch but the feather is light, a souvenir of florid flights of fearless fantastic feats - simple and humble in its glorious reminder. Nothing lost forever, the gilgulim keeps turning. We will have this dance again. Unless you get it right this time. Fuck!

I have spent all morning trying to locate a photo of myself as a child dancing wildly to chase off monsters. I wanted to share it with Lynne. It seems to elude me. But I know it is here, somewhere.

So I photographed other photos from my childhood instead. Triggering! But those people are responsible for forming parts of my personality and memory and psyche that cannot be easily erased.

Stagnant ponds that like a poorly spawned froglet I had to transmogrify from and hop/swim/leap onto more beautiful lilies and more fragrant waters. Hah!

I said to Beauregard: Only very stupid people migrate to Australia the land of endless stinking putrefying summer and get old, poor and toothless!

He agreed with me, to my chagrin.

So I told him he was only a figment of my holographic reality and if it glitches the right way we would be living our dream on a beach in Byron Bay getting older in a serene lucid dream of Bliss.

I told him he was one of my long lucid dreams and I had the power to change the ending. So he humped my arm and scratched me with his talons and that was the end of that 'mare.

Nothing like a dose of dogged reality to wake you up to smell the hummus!

2 January 2014

Ave Tabitha who this afternoon joined her sister Hecate in Valhalla. She fought long and hard and even in the midst of her suffering lay an egg...on my bed.

I pray my neighbour John put her down humanely as he promised he would. I went over 2 hours later but he was snoring loudly and Tabitha was nowhere in sight so I guess he put her out of her misery.

At least she is free of suffering now. It's been a long hard emotional day. My legs are aching as if I have run a marathon. I have been awake since 5 am when I found hecate dead and buried her immediately.

So much carnage at my house, it's like the Hag of Death is living on my roof.

Ok I am thinking what killed Hecate and is killing off Tabitha was the sulphur dust I put in their nesting box to kill off any mites. I had really bad asthma that night. (30 Dec 2013) but when I checked on the hens early next morning they were all fine. Hecate died sometime during the day yesterday and Tabitha is not likely to survive.

Myself, I have a headache which is not one of the symptoms of sulphur poisoning but I will have to keep an eye on my lungs.

I am really distressed that I have killed my own hens unintentionally with an old remedy.

And my bastard neighbours start their heavy machinery with the grinding noise again. Ffs! Can't we ever have peace and quiet?

Fully dressed but lying in bed with my dying hen (keeping her warm and comforted in case she survives) and had this awful realisation. I've eaten thousands of her kind in my lifetime. Yet here, I comfort one chook, one very special girl as I was unable to save Hecate yesterday, in fact slept through the entire day so missed her death altogether.

I am a really shitty person. Really shitty. How could I do better? How can I respect myself after the deaths of both Bella, and Zulu to ticks and now Hecate and soon...Tabitha hen?

It's not like I neglect or abuse them but yet death keeps taking my beautiful pets. So sick of this but helpless too.

Fuck! Tabitha is dying also. I've wrapped her in a towel to keep her warm. Gonna hold her til it's over.

Elvira seems fine and is foraging. I hope she keeps living.

Ave Hecate Hen! Found her dead this morning. Just buried her. The Fucking Angel of Death is still hanging around. Fucker!!!!!!

Poor Hecate! She laid eggs until her last day on Earth. A champion! May G-d keep her beautiful soul until we are reunited in the after-life. Love you Hecate! I was too late with the remedies I guess.

I've been thinking about Goddess energy last night. About what kind of inspirations are moulding me to be the eclectic eccentric wild woman I am.

I know I cause either admiration or fear in many men I meet on my wild night's dancing. I think this may be a centre of my personal power which I am easily able to access in a stress situation ie crowds of drunks in a torpid atmosphere of Hard Rock.

The music is so healing to my soul and I find myself in a kind of euphoric (sometimes disassociative) trance. My entire being feels suffused with Mana, like a Warrior preparing for battle but more than that, like a synergy inside my body, mind and soul.

The best musicians, Berst or Transvaal Diamond Syndicate bring out this intense recognition of ramped up power that under normal circumstances I rarely exhibit outwardly. It is so good to be able to release that inner fire in a safe and life-enhancing way.

The rock chicks/groupies that we are, co-create the atmosphere with the bands and in our own way reverberate the profound talent and energy of the musicians through the crowd and back again, like a wave of joyfulness and an amplification of any emotion related to the song.

We love our music and our music loves us. The perfect vessels for its Eternal Expression. For like Love, Music never dies, nor other forms of Creativity. Without it, we slowly fade to black.

5.27 am. Just got woken up by a ululating smug chicken. Great! Lucky I slept too much yesterday anyway.

2 January 2012

My Darling Friend Jarrod visited with a bottle of Moet Chandon, and some assorted nibblies. Bliss! We shared a lovely mellow afternoon together, with our dog family, Bella and Harvey and visited the Small dog Park but got disturbed by a rather rambunctious Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy with the doggy etiquette of a Sadistic Killer, which I am sure he is going to grow up to be! LOL.

2 January 2010

Everyone around me has an attack of the BLAHS. This makes me realise what a drain I am to all my closest people as I have had constant blahs for 44 years. LOL I don't like it when everyone else is depressed too! Who the hell will be there to cheer me up now?

Slept through most of the first two days of 2010. Not missing much so far! LOL

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons

humanity
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About the Creator

Tanya Arons

I write about my life experiences. I write about complex ptsd, the agonies, the angst and my post traumatic growth. About Beauty, Truth and Honour and little vignettes of comfort from the spirits that love me: living and dead. I also Dance!

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