Vector8 Journals

Friday, October 01, 2004


Week 1

The thought comes from nowhere,
Sam*, the name of an ex boyfriend.
Why now?
Delete thought, go away
I don't want him manifesting now!
It's over, in the past, a lifetime ago.
But it persists, drills
A hole in my psyche,
It just won't let go.
Press Delete button,
Peace at last!
Later that day I'm drawn to a movie
And as the credits roll
I note with irritation
One of the actors is called Sam,

Week 2

I'm trying to control those unruly thoughts
It's like having a pothole
Deep inside my mind.
"Your name's not down, you're not coming in!"
I'm on top of it.
Later on, I'm watching "Big Brother";
(I love reality tv shows,
The dramas are endless just for seventy Grand)
One of the house residents has left
And been replaced by a man called Sam!
You can handle it, relax
He means nothing to you
Make no associations!
By the next day
I'm cool and detached.

Week 3

I'm sitting in my favourite chair
In the bookshop reading
Don't you just love them, the new library?
A man approaches me and says
"It's you, I knew it was you!"
I stare with annoyance at an ex work colleague
Of ten years ago.
"You don't recognise me do you?"
"Of course I do," I say with gritted teeth,
"You're Sam aren't you?"
Inside I say "God, Love, Light, Oneness,
Whatever you answer to, when will you hear me?
I said no more Sams!"
Sam and I reminisce over our days together
Then with a hug and a kiss and a "nice to see you",
He walks out of my life.
I stomp out of the bookshop.

Week 4

I have now attained Mastery over all thoughts
What a relaxing week, productive as well
As a treat I've decided I might even buy a book
So here I am in another bookshop.
There's a writer in store promoting a novel
About the media - should be interesting,
I pull up a pew.
After a few minutes I'm lost in a fantasy
About the most discreet exit I can make
But someone sits besides me.
He nudges me and whispers in my ear
"I've been thinking about you!"
I know that voice.
I stare with horror at my ex boyfriend called Sam.
A few minutes of mad internal dialogue follows
Then He whispers he's bored, shall we go?
I follow, my heart beating wildly.

We go to the cafe for a drink and a chat
Exchange five year's history
Of work, play and love.
His story leaves a bloody trail
Of relationships he's had.
What's an ex to do but gloat?
I'm feeling a lot more relaxed
And regard him with fondness
Of the brief moments we shared.
I now know that he wasn't to be
Should never even have happened;
Yet I'm grateful for the lesson he taught me.
Soon it's time to say goodbye.
With a hug and a kiss and a "good to see you"
(And I really mean it)
I've finally washed that thought right out of my hair.

I feel giddy, joyful and delightfully empty
What else should I think of now?
Him? O God not him!
Too late the lid has sprung open.

*Name changed for obvious reasons

(c) Enocia Joseph

For other writings see Vector8 writings