Pieces Of A Larger Puzzle: A Beauty Versus A Beast

Admittedly, this blog has been rather silent in recent months as life has caused me to retrace certain paths and regain some pieces of myself that I thought were lost to my own experiences.   As I've managed to gain clarity and remain thankful for newfound wisdom, I have seemingly regained time to jot down a few thoughts and, once again, begin to bombard you with my opinions and dare you to see things through eyes other than your own.  

To that, I  say in advance, "Say less...  you're welcomed".

THE PERFECTION OF PUBLIC DECEPTION 

Today's headlines seem to be saturated with opinions concerning the ongoing Sean Combs trial and it's attempts to relay guilt or innocence to the masses.  As I watch moments of review from differing media sources, I am amused that no one has stepped back far enough to realize that Comb's defense lawyers are willful participants in the public dismantling of Combs while pretending to defend him against unclear accusations and muddled truths.

Please allow me to offer my vantage point....

Cassie Ventura is, indeed, the star witness. 

Delaying the trial until Cassie has been solidified into a new image of innocence was an  absolutely brilliant move on behalf of Federal prosecutors.  The image of a pretty, pregnant, soft spoken young woman provokes the perfect image of a damsel in distress.  Her willingness to come forward while trying to regain a picture perfect resemblance of life with her new relationship in full bloom offers a dark contrast to the ten years of horror she has spent as a drugged out sex slave suffering from Stockholm syndrome.  While many see her testimony as an epic fail, I see it as a stroke of genius as the prosecution has lain a foundation that will triumph over anything that the defense will offer.

Ventura's niave innocence and maternal beauty is picturesque  and it is further underlined by her inability to respond maturely to the court.  Her lingual development appears stunted and would lead the jury to believe that she is no more than a mindless, impressionable child who was cruelly manipulated by her abuser.  By answering detailed questions through tears or childish laughter, the prosecution masterfully paints a picture of an underdeveloped psyche that has been trapped in a woman's body.  Her immature and slow responses serve to trap any onlookers to believe that she has trouble with verbalizing her feelings, relaying discomfort, or even make any type of intelligent  statement of defiance that would be taken seriously by Combs.

By comparison, Combs' presence in the courtroom is formidable.   He is dressed casually; as if he is shrugging his shoulders at the justice system and will rise above this inconvenience   His smug, casual appearance can be seen as arrogant and condescending; furthering an air of being untouchable.   After all, he is a corporate mogul who understands the languages of multimillion dollar contracts, NDAs, and he weilds the intelligence and breath of knowledge needed to maintain a business empire known around the world.  

Cassie was prepared perfectly as the star witness because her civil case has already  been won.  By settling with her in just  one day for an undisclosed amount of money, Combs has already admitted guilt.  By having Ventura to go in great depth about the sexual and physical abuse she has endured, she proves that Combs can be a transformative manipulator who is not to be trusted.  Her continued presence in the courtroom will serve as a resounding alarm of what Combs is truly capable of repeating if he is ever offered freedom.  So, he must be found guilty of something in order to allow innocence like hers to flourish in healthy and fruitful relationships.  

Indeed, the contrasts between the two of them is a supreme victory for the prosecution.  Her one word, childish responses and doe-eyed innocence feeds directly into painting Combs as a predator.  Knowing this, the attorneys were purposefully targeted in their askings.  They did not ask her to detail any crimes concerning racketeering or prostitution in an effort to preserve her blind allegiance to Combs.  This further deepens the belief of an underlying, child-like compliance and will leave  many jurors feeling as if she would be oblivious to even understanding the complexity of any legal terminology.   Even when asked why she did not escape, Ventura responded like a school girl in love; hoping that she would, one day, please her oppressor.  As the star witness and main victim of Combs' ongoing crimes, Ventura opened the jurors eyes to be empathetic to each person who would follow her onto the stand.  She also lends creditability to others who would fall victim to this Stockholm syndrome in the years that followed her trappings.

Every witness who takes the stand after Ventura will serve only to take the jury further into this mental abyss.  The jurors will transfer the duality of Combs' personal and business relationships in the same manner.  They will see each witness as being innocent and niave to the intentions of this supreme manipulator.  They will use his template for destruction as an ongoing theme with each new encounter.  It is amazingly intelligent how the prosecuting attorneys opened this case with their strongest and most believable personality.  

I cant help but think that Combs' own attorneys are secretly rooting for the other side.  They suggested that he dress casually.  They have encouraged his family to appear in court, but didnt advise them to shy away from the luxurious drapings of living a lifestyle that is far out of the reach of many others in the courtroom.  The visual that is painted will serve as a reminder that Combs, if proven innocent, will only return to being the same mongrel mogul that history has revealed him to be.  Even if Combs can maintain his demeanor during the trial, the jurors will be discredited and take into accountability every groan, smirk, and air of privilege that is ushered into the room by his family.  

The prosecution already has a win given to them by having Combs' family. Their presence overshadows the humble persona that Combs is attempting to relay to jurors.  When Combs' own daughters excused themselves from the courtroom after hearing the list of sexual crimes in great detail, it rang out as an injustice that was too great to bear from his own support team.  This should have been seen as crippling and, if they were truly protecting Combs, his attorneys should have prepared the family prior to trial or ask that they only appear in court when called.  If used more strategically, his family could have been used to show Combs in a better light, but this single oversight in optics could prove detrimental to Combs' foundation.

The mere  presence of his family also ring true to his willful deceptions.  If his children should be asked to take the stand on his behalf, the jurors will take note that Combs has groomed his daughters for success; they are poised, well spoken, and worldly.  They will, unwittingly,  respond to questions eloquently and in full, concise sentences.  They will speak of collegiate aspirations and being led away from ever  entering the entertainment industry by their own father.  They will offer such a stark contrast to the innocence of Ventura that the jurors will only see the obvious trappings of a predator when they look at the 54-year old father of seven who is nestled comfortably amid a flanking of seven powerful attorneys in overpriced designer suits.

And, during a time of economic stress, Combs' public relations team has offered another decisive chip of arrogance for the jury to consider.  By paying passersby  $20 an hour to wear Sean John T-shirts the read, ""Free Diddy" just outside the court doors, they are only feeding into the idea that money and power are tools for manipulating poor people to,literally, sell their bodies for momentary gain.  By printing these shirts and making them available through Combs' own label, they only reinforce the idea that Combs is profiting through continually exploiting the innocence of others.  This was a badly executed show of supporting May serve as, yet, another win for the prosecution. 

In this courtroom brawl, so many battles are being fought at the same time.  It is a classic battle of poor versus rich and how power is used to make people do things they would not normally do.  It is a chance to persecute privilege and power and send a signal to those in power to remain humble or be judged for their constant manipulations of others.  Although Combs is but one of many, he may just be the sacrificial lamb at this time.  Everything seems to point to an obvious slaughter being played out right in front of our eyes.

And remember, more charges can be weighed against Combs at any time.  Many others in the entertainment industry who want to avoid public humiliation may come forward and speak against their old friend and support the underlying theme of Stockholm syndrome.  And, Ventura can always be recalled to the stand in order to remind the jury of innocence lost.  After all, the victim is often the hero in so many tales.

But alas, this is just ONE Man's Opinion...  what is yours?

Day and Knight

I awake from dreams each morning 

And begin living my nightmare.

In my dreams. I slay dragons;

But when I awake, they're still there.

Asleep, I am a cunning soldier

Trained with skills that few possess.

But when I wake and I remove my armor

I seem helpless in daily dress.

No, it's not an alter ego

Nor my disguise throughout the day

But, at night, I'm just more fearless

And my thoughts don't go astray.

Last night, I was the apprentice 

Who is oft forgotten in Author's tales

We focus more on knights and round tables,

Valiant battles and maiden's wares.

But standing nearby in the limelight 

Quickly attending to my teacher's needs

I was allowed to experience galantry

From my wood carved, uncushioned seat.

When the knights concluded planning

And rose from assigned seats

I was told the things to pack hastily

As they might fulfill my teacher's needs.

I was told I'd be the steward 

Left behind to maintain things

As my teacher and his companions

Went on an adventure for the King.

This was quite an undertaking

For an apprentice with big eyes,

I was excited, scared, and a little curious

As my stomach filled with butterflies. 

I watched from a high window

As the knights galantly departed

And just as they blended into the horizon

It was then that my adventure started.

Firstly, I scanned through potions, 

Then, exotic herbs and spices,

Then a forbidden book of spells

Brimming with curses; some not so nice.

But then, I stumbled into a hidden room

When a door opened by the shelf

Scared, but fearless, I decided

To have an adventure for myself.

The smell of brimstone opened my nostrils

And the gem-lined wall danced in my eyes

But then I saw a sight so frightful 

That I found myself paralyzed.

Part II coming soon

A Lesson On Happiness

While walking home from a local bodega tonight, I was blessed with the opportunity to exchange ideas with a colleague who was facing challenges in his relationship.   I usually offer an attentive ear and limit my responses when others are venting their frustrations because life has taught me that opinion is plentiful, knowledge is earned, and advice is something that should be asked for and not given freely.  Even then, it is important to temper words, taper emotions, and tap dance lightly so that the person seeking advice still feels free to consider your words as an optional avenue to resolve their issues instead of seeing it as an unwarranted, forceful solution to end their woes.

Although my friend expressed a great deal of anxiety over his situation, I  walked quietly by his side as we navigated the sidewalks and juggled the weight of groceries from hand to hand.  His frustration stemmed from the endless efforts he was exhausting to ensure that he maintained happiness in his home.  He worked tirelessly each day to ensure that every whim was satisfied.  He showered his spouse with attention and often found that his greatest attempts were overshadowed by a constant need for more material things, his attendance at more family outings, and sharing more responsibilities inside the home.  To him, there weren't enough hours in the day to do all that he was expected to do for his wife, his children, or his home.  Yet, he tried to do his best and, seemingly, it was just wasn't enough.

Finally, after arriving on the street that would lead us each home, he stopped walking, looked blankly toward his home, and asked me, "What more can one man do?"  Seeing my friend drowning in his own thoughts, I ushered him toward a bench, placed my bag down and said, "Listen more than you talk.  React just as much as you take action.  And, most importantly, stop trying to add hours to your day instead of making the most of the hours you're given with your family..."

You see, I learned a long time ago that we often create the obstacles in our lives.  So, logically; we can save ourselves from hardships by dealing with them differently.   If someone is constantly demanding more of you, stop long enough to hear what theyre asking and why.  If you're constantly working to prove yourself as the ultimate provider, then you may be the reason that they see you as a bank with never ending resources.  Set limits on spending, work hours, and time spent away from family..

Rather than driving your children to and from school, take the time once a week to walk them to or from school or through s park.  Talk with them about their school, friends, fears and triumphs.  Listen for true emotional content and discover who they're becoming without always imposing your own expectations on them.  Fathering a child is the easy part.  However; it takes a lot more than rules and a seat in your luxury car before they will affectionately refer to you as their dad.

And, just as importantly, learn to take time for yourself.  Running at full steam every day will, one day, become too exhaustive for your body.  Learn to rest, exercise, and refuel yourself often with by e romancing your spouse and remembering all the reasons that you've created this union.  By investing more time in your family, you'll find greater rewards and true richness in your life.

As my friend sat there nodding in agreement, we said our goodbyes and picked up my groceries.  As I made my way down the street I realized that I, too, should take a moment to listen to my own advice and make sure that I  build more value to each day.   I decided not to cook my "dinner for one" once I got home.  I'll visit my mom and sister tomorrow with "dinner for three" and make more than a meal...  We'll make some memories instead.

May You Suffer Just The Same...

May You Suffer Just The Same

written July 19, 2020

My heart has just been crumbled into a chalky, dark red sand.

I just can't go on loving you, I am no longer the same man.

Strangely, I don't feel your venom as it courses through my veins

But, even as my heart grows numb; each beat forces out new pains.

I never meant to become the villain in your day-to-day nightmare,

I've only wanted to cherish you and show you how much I care.

But, your secret rendezvous, midnight texts, and x-rated video dates

Have made me became your nemesis and you've already sealed my fate.

Now, other men have your attention, your friendship, and your devotion,

And I've lost my place in your frozen heart as it fills with my demotion.

You say that I'm the problem as your affairs publicly evolve -

And you wonder when I'll finally notice that we're no longer involved.

You've weakened every vessel within my broken heart,

And still, I cling helplessly to you as my whole life falls apart.

You've ciphered every single resource as if money grows on trees

As you disregard my feelings; as I no longer serve your needs.

To you, I'm no more than a nameless face in an ever-growing crowd;

Just another one of your super fans; a digital patron in the clouds.

I was, once, your handsome knight who saved you from despair

But your words of anger soon revealed that you never even cared.

You once felt safe In my arms: now, you hate that I'm still breathing. 

And instead of  mending our relationship, you schedule secret meetings.

I've sacrificed and lost everything, and still, you require more and more

And, like a fool, I work day and night while other men come knocking at my door.

You've drained of all my energy; I'm just a sheep being led to slaughter 

While you date others openly and laugh - but, not always in that order.

You've watched my barren soul descend deeper into your hell.

My best friend, your ex's brother, your mom's new beau - they've all been conjured by your spell.

Memories of our times together have been replaced - one after the other;

And I've stopped existing as I once was as I bitterly become some other.

Yes, it seems that I've  been fooled by love and I gave my heart too freely;

Thinking you'd reciprocate and not be so damned deceiving.

You see, a tiger never changes stripes, nor does a cheetah get new spots.

And I'm not the first, nor am I the last in your chain of broken hearts.

I choose not to warn your next victims - I have my selfish reasons; 

Maybe kharma will visit you and let vengance have open season.

To keep others guessing your true identity, you slander my good name;

Leaving proof of your affairs to be found by me while telling others I've gone insane.

Confusion caused by our back and forth have made our friends all turn away;

But that just means fewer prying eyes as you go about your day.

New suitors have ignored the signs that would deter a wiser man

As you continue using sex as your weapon of choice - over and over again.

So, willingly, I finally free myself from the torture of this game;

Knowing one day soon, you'll  meet your match and suffer just the same.

May You Suffer Just The Same. 

The Freedom of A Willow Tree

As a child, I once wrote a poem that, unintentionally, angered my mother; a poem about my own demise.  She thought that, at the age of 9, I was far too young to even consider my own end.  But, even still, I can recall the words of this poem to this day along with  the whimsical imagination of a child.

Ssurely, everyone must die - but I wanted a celebration of a life worthy of remembrance.   Seemingly,  my thoughts about how to handle my remains have gone unchanged for over thirty years....

My Willow Tree

by Sean C. Robinson

Summer 1979

When I die, I’d like to be

Placed beneath a willow tree;

A strong, but silent, willow tree

That weeps for none but me.

So, place my ashes in an urn

And bury me after I am burned.

Allow me to be born again

In branches and leaves that dance in the wind.

Yes, when I die, I’d like to be

Born again as a willow tree.

So, when you visit,
don’t cry for thee

Because my willow
will always weep for me.

And I’ll grow strong and offer shade

And live with family throughout my days

As a strong and silent willow tree

That watches over years of family.

So after I have left this earthly frame

Bury me so I might live again

As a  strong, but silent, willow tree

That weeps for none but me.

More recently, I  met with a group of friends and discussed the fact that, culturally, we often forget that death is a part of the cycle of life. 

  

We fail to plan ahead and; therefore, leave our families with undue expenses at a time when stress and poor decision making skills are at a all-time high.  As a favor to ourselves and our families, we all decided to take a moment and do three things that would help ease the pain of our transitions:

• Create, notarize, and file our final will, 
• Open a savings account at a black owned bank and deposit funds for our funerals, and 
• If we are organ donors, we would designate how our organs are to be used to help other family members in need rather than just left for general distribution by the funeral homes / hospitals.

By doing these things in advance, many of the hard decisions that plague our surviving family members are removed.  Families often bicker over last minute details and a funeral is the wrong place to birth new hostilities.  So, by thinking of others even as you think of yourself, you may quail the tensions  of family division long before they become an issue.

I want a peaceful home going celebration.  I know what songs I would like to be played, how I would like to be remembered, and what I’d like to see done with the monies left behind from various insurance policies.  By creating scholarships, trust funds, and allocating property, it is safe to say we can all create a legacy that will begin to build generations of wealth long after we have left this realm.

But, alas, this is just ONE Man’s Opinion…. What about you?