December 13th, 2000

Brown-eyed Stare

Nero, can you play a little softer?

I am not sure how to respond to this, so I lay it upon the altar. I want to be spiteful and vengeful, doling out justice that I feel is sorely needed, and equalizing things. But I laugh at myself, knowing I probably don’t have that power.

And it is not my place to play god, nor ought I to judge others.

But therein lies my dilemma: where do I draw the line? Where do I stand up and say “No more; you will no longer use me as a tool for your machinations. I am not your scapegoat nor your lackey.” The lies and backstabbing and subtle manipulations that I see and hear around me all cry out for justice to be served. And my integrity bone aches; well do I want to even the score. Well would I like to distribute the information I have, and simply leave, knowing that those who wrought ill among others will now find it coming back to haunt them in equal measure.

I don’t even know if what I have would make a bit of difference, nor do I know if it would even be of use. But well would I like to try.

And yes, I am disturbed by the thought of quitting a job one week before Christmas, with nothing left to fill the earning space. But my integrity bugs me, telling me that if I stick around until January, my silence voices a complicity. And of all the things I would choose not to be, I would not be complacent.

I feel wronged for having been misjudged (albeit as a scapegoat), but I do also do feel guilty for what I have not done. I am not perfect, and my heart just isn’t in this; I haven’t done my best. And I do feel bad for those who’d be left to play the neverending political game.

I feel like I’m on the Titanic with my own personal life raft, watching others as one by one, they desert the sinking ship. And a few unworthy scoundrels are plundering the sinking vessel’s vaults for all they’re worth. I want to ask one if he ever has a kind word to say about anyone, or is he really nothing more than a perpetual complainer. And I long to confront the other directly to see if his passive aggressive nature holds up under close scrutiny.

Friends would tell me that neither one is worth my time; I would argue, but only for the sake of finally being satisfied that justice had, somehow, been served. I could be a mouse that roared, or I could just sit here and be the one who watched as the damn ship sank.

It sucks to be a temp sometimes; but at other times, it’s the safest thing.