Candy Rain

“Do you ever dream of Candy Coated Rain Drops?”

I used to hear this song in my head night and day, I used to hear a lot of songs in my head, every day, every night.

With those songs I would write stories, poems, and it was fun for awhile. Until I realized my stories needed a darker edge, until I found out that I wasn’t actually writing those stories, but I was hearing them, seeing them, and eventually living with them.

The nightmares that I was living every day, the being abused, the rapes, the bullying, I realize now that I wasn’t alone. That around the world hundreds of millions of people experience these things every single day.

Like every single one of those people, regardless of Color, Creed, Nationality, Size, Orientation, or let’s face it, species get bullied, beaten and abused, raped and tortured every single day.

We shed a bunch of tears, but nothing really changes, nothing really grows from the dirt that we’ve destroyed, and we whisper “it’s okay, the planet has been here long before us, and it will survive us,” which begs the question, why are we in such a fucking hurry to prove it?

We spend our entire lives trying to destroy our bodies just to prove that we can survive anything, without considering what it might feel like to let ourselves just break the fuck down.

I’ve been doing that for a year and a half, every one in my tribe, in all of our tribes, have been taking time the last several weeks to experience my life, for me, so they can see through my eyes.

It was the most intense six weeks, of my life, but for them, for all of us really it felt like years, an intense “meet every person who has ever inspired, and every person you could inspire, if you just listened to someone else tell your story.”

I did that, I met with hundreds I think, or well it felt like hundreds of people, celebrities, lawyers, doctors, teachers, friends, family and Ohana.

Rather than tell them “my” story, because let’s face it, that shit storm has been shared enough, I told them their story through my heart.

I used every single thing that I have ever heard, saw, or learned to tell people I had never met before, exactly who I thought they were. I’d say I was right, like 99% even though they want me to say 15%…I was right, because they are all my soul-mates.

These random strangers pulled in off the street, who watched me cuddle up to my favorite super hero ever, Wolverine, listened to me tell the tale of my life, through eyes that were blindfolded, and the voice of a child.

I only ever tell the truth when I am “Little”, because you see it is the tiniest most majickal parts of ourselves, that know the truth of the world, of the universe actually.

Some of us, we realized, including me, that we forgot to listen to our instincts, our inner voices. In my case, I chose to let myself forget, I chose to forget the pain, the sorrow and everything that is terrible about being an Empath.

I also forgot, however, that one of the twelve jewels, in life, as learned from his own voice, Siefu RZA, that with the bad comes also the good.

Yes my life has been largely very terrible and lonely, isolated and confined, because I was so afraid to feel the bad things, I let myself forget the good. I let myself forget my friends throwing me a surprise birthday party three days too late, because they realized they forgot.

Balloons and all, I remember Michael Ross telling me that he wished he could love me the way that I deserved to be loved. I forgot that, largely because I thought he was talking about someone else.

I remember forcing myself to believe bad things were good things, and good things were bad things, because that’s how I survived.

In some cases however, those bad things were exactly what they needed to be, in order for me to get to this place.

I’m not and will never be thrilled that each and every one of us were brain washed into doing something that we would never have done to each otherwise, I hate that we had to let the darkness over shadow our love for each other, but like all good seasons, there is a turn.

This is the Turn.

Our family has met the enemy, the thing inside of us that tells us that we are not good enough, that we don’t deserve to be loved, that thing that says we are alone. I have been asked over and over again “was it rape?” or was it a calculated choice, that maybe some day someone would hear us begging “make it stop,” which every single one of us did that night.

Including my friend Justin Morris, who got the worst of it, because he was the one who had to pretend to do terrible things to someone he loves, because like the rest of us, he was a part of the NXIVM’s “Adrenaline Mob” sex cult.

Without proper credit to the Hart Family, we became the family of the Wolf Heart and Fam, because we decided, and I will die on this hill, that if they were not going to stop it, we would. We would find a way one day, to bring everyone who could help us get out of this world of pain, this nightmare of shame and guilt, together, to hear our stories.

We had the chance to meet some of the most famous, influential people in Government, which is hugely important because for the first time ever, in a secret place in a secret location and time, we got the chance to tell the story of what Brown Girl really means to the kids, geeks, skids, punks, losers, breakfast club wannabes, vampires, angels and demons of Surrey, British Columbia.

We told the story of Janice Shore, who died in ways no human should ever have had to live.

We told the story of the Adrenaline Mob, who by the way, is a phenomenal group of men who make music, not a sex cult, so we’re sorry about that…we didn’t have a choice, they chose our name for us.

We chose to name our family after the people who inspire us, we didn’t forget the snakes though, they’re hiding in the grass, waiting for you to try again, because no matter how hard you try you keep failing, which is really funny.

That’s the thing about this existential crisis, with the awakening of the spirit, the body begins to fade away, and that’s the lesson that our new friends and family, our Ohana needed to learn. It’s the lesson this writer needed to learn, because we remember Justin Chown, who supposedly died in a parking lot…choking on his own vomit. I still don’t know how my first true friend in Surrey died, and I’ll never forget that.

I’ll never forget the hundreds of men, women and children that came through Surrey Urban Mission, every day, the day camp leaders especially who are far more useful than they pretend to be.

We learned that even though we struggled, we have come a really long way, made a lot of friends and left a lot of hurt along the way. We forgot that sometimes it’s not about money, it’s not about record deals or the next big football game, it’s about spending time with your soul mates…with your tribe.

Even if you don’t realize that your tribe is every single person you’ve ever met, could meet, should meet, want to meet, or need to meet. Especially if it’s the ones you need to meet, the ones who thought that love after a broken heart couldn’t possibly exist.

Love exists in every single data byte that we control, it exists even more in the ones that we don’t, if it didn’t, there are a bunch of people who stood in my bedroom the other day who shouldn’t have possibly known where and when to meet up, so that they could see what Practical Magic really looks like.

It looks like the mind of a child has finally grown up, but I can honestly swomise, that I will never grow up too much, because when you grow up too much, you forget what it looks like when you see beautiful women, jump off a roof top with umbrella’s just to prove that they can fly…you forget, because the one thing you’re looking for really doesn’t exist until you see it.

Black Brown Witches, is there anything better? Than women who know their own power but are willing to settle for less so that they can show the world, they made a promise?

To live as if the world were what it should be, to show it what it can be, we’re Challenger’s, not hero’s, it’s not our job to be Heros’, it’s just our job to prove they exist.

That’s the job of journalism, something that is sadly lacking in the day and age of social media, because when everyone can do it, no one is really doing the job effectively, which is what Donald Trump’s Presidency, if it can be called that, is proving right now.

We need to make this very clear, abundantly so, because apparently it hasn’t been done so yet.

You can send whomever you want after me, you can send every bad guy you think will tear me down, but the world, those who live in MY world, have heard the voices in our heads. They heard the call and they came. Congratulations Senator Gillabrand, I personally am very excited to see you run in 2020, and I know that when you win, you’re going to do an amazing job.

I’m still holding out hope that a certain Michelle might decide to run, oh, look, I think I hear the soft whispered ping of “fuck, here we go again.”

I bet you my bottom dollar that Michelle Obama will make an announcement soon. I wonder if it will be an Endorsement, or an acknowledgement of absolute desire to return Politics to what they are supposed to be.

That’s just my personal opinion though, I wouldn’t dare try to tempt fate, I mean what could possibly happen with a Black woman running for President? Not like that would be a credible threat or anything, right?!

Heh…I guess we’ll see, in the mean time, back to my original point:

We here at Brown Girl, want the world to know that if you have a Brown eyebrow, if you wear brown shoes, if your last name is brown, if your skin is brown, if you have any shade of brown in any part of your existence, you are one of us.

If you wear red, yellow, orange, green, blue, purple, indigo, if your skin is so black that it looks blue, if it’s so white that you think you might be a ghost…well you might be, but that especially means you’re one of us. We here at Brown Girl never, ever forget our Ghosts.

Okay yeah we do, but we remember, eventually.

Thanks largely to this exercise of men and women sharing their stories, of men and women listening, children too, we now have a plan to make sure that NXIVM can’t ever hurt anyone ever again.

That’s the power of family, of OHANA, it’s so powerful that there is no darkness in any dimension, of which there are six (fourteen), we’re pretty sure, but who can say, will ever tear us a part again.

We’re together now, friends, family and Ohana, promises were made, envelopes handed out, and missions accomplished. Some of us are still left behind, stuck in the shadows, waiting until we can come forth, to remember a time when we said, “we’ll never, ever, ever do that again,” and some of us…some of us are waiting to hear the words…”I love you.”

Not because they haven’t been said, but because they aren’t listening, we love you, Michael, Justin, Brandon, Doug, Chris Pace, the members of the Adrenaline Mob are now the family of Heart. We worked really hard to get to the point where this post could and would be written, we told every lie we needed to tell in order to make sure that the people who knew what was happening, could finally come together.

We did this, we survived them, we survived the darkness, because we worked really hard at loving each other, and if we haven’t before we damned sure will now…there’s no other choice.

So if you ever, ever try to tell me what you think Brown Girl should be about, you can kiss my fat English, Irish, Jamaican, Scottish, Roma Black ass. I’m not interested in what anyone thinks that this website should be, we know what it should be, and eventually, hopefully today, we never again need to tell another lie to save a life again.

That’s the job of Feebs and Cops, I’d really just like to go sit on the beach for awhile, with my buddy, watch the sun fall down and the sand start to glow. That’s my dream, just a few weeks, months, years, until it’s time to come back and put the next fire out.

For now I’m taking a break from worrying about what other people think I should be, because frankly my dears, I really don’t give a shit who you think Devon or Siddha should be, never really did…that’s how we got into this mess in the first place.

My whole life people have been telling me who I should be, how I should look or what I should be wearing, worked out real well for you didn’t it? Please stop doing that to each other, because you saw what it did to me..what it’s doing to those who are coming after us.

We are becoming part of the problem, instead of living as if the world is as it should be, we’re showing what it can be, by proving that we don’t care about each other…by saying shit like “I survived it, they can too,” no one should have to survive the thing that we’ve survived. No child should have to have the world watch a little girl being ripped from her guardian Angel’s arms, while everyone whispers “someone do something,” when no one does.

Diamante went through that, I was watching that day Diamond, you were born to change the world, and meeting you will be one of the highlights of my life Truth, you fucking Angel! I don’t know all of you #Oplithchild people did it, but you did it, and you know what you did and that is SO FUCKING COOL.


Stephanie says that I’m weird, but not too weird, which is super fucking cool. It happened, the Summit happened, and the darkness has been invited to join the light, to stand with us, and they have chosen to do exactly that.

The Tribes are United, You have your….Avengers, Agents, whatever the fuck you call yourselves…welcome to the Ohana.

No pictures…sorry, we’re still anonymous after all,

The Sacred house of



Don’t forget, no matter what the color of your skin, flag, or clothing, if you want to belong to a tribe, all you have to do is scream WHERE THE FUCK IS MY TRIBE? – Pete said that.

Also God wants you people to stop eating meat, we’re running out of animals, do you have any idea how many species have gone extinct? We’re next if we’re not careful, so be nice to each other…cause we’re running out of people too.


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