No Evil, Please, I'm On a Verbal Diet

"Hear no evil don't you see no evil don't you lay no evil down on me
You're gonna burn in hell
Speak no evil don't you think no evil don't you play with evil cause I'm free
You're gonna burn in hell."--Twisted Sister

It is hard for me to fathom that the course of my life could be altered by the irresponsibility of others, by a carelessly flung adjective, a remark taken out of context, an overzealous exclamation, or an outside observation.  I don't know why it's hard for me, I've had it done before.  Maybe as cynical and distrusting as I can be, I still have that hopeful naivete that I can believe in someone.  I've been burned before; painfully blistered and scarred, my cracked soul still has not fully recovered.  But even still I know I could never do to them what they have done to me.  Does that make me a better person?  No.  Well, maybe, but that's not a judgment for me to make.  It just makes me who I am.  I can be a bitch.  I can be someone you don't want to piss off.  But the repercussions of that is not retaliation, but a cool, quiet aloofness, an invisible wall I erect to keep out those who burn me, impenetrable to the fires they breathe on me, impervious to wicked forked tongues that speak from both sides of their shameful mouths.  

I am dangerous, and they don't even realize it.  I go along with them, as if I am one, but I watch, I listen, I record.  I hang back and observe.  I can treat someone with respect, treat them as I would a friend, all the while not trusting them; hell, not even liking them.  But they don't even realize.  I process this information solely for my own use.  It is what I use to decide if I can let this person inside the wall.  Most fail.  Some are allowed in.  Some get inside only to be kicked out.  I can work very well with someone I don't like, because that's what I do, and they are none the wiser.  I choose my words carefully, plan out my sentences, and the information I choose to share is carried from me to someone else, via this person, this telephone line.  My responses are calculated, executed without the knowledge or consent of the vessel I use to deliver them.  What to them seems like something I share in passing is really a well planned verse.  And they don't even know it.

I am many things but I am not evil.  I can be careless, I can be recklessly passionate, I can be angry, and yes, I can even be hurtful (though that is a side of myself I do not like to portray) but I am not evil.  I wish ill-will on no one, not even my worst enemies.  That serves no purpose in my life.  Sometimes I wish Karma would rip them a new one, and when it does I relish it, but I wish no permanent damage.  Just cosmic order.  

That is why I try to see no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil, because that which is dealt out shall be returned.  And I'm not anxious to be Karma's bitch.