Dear Nearly: Part 3 "A Sighty"

when i say "a sighty" that may be miss leading. it was more a mysterious enlightenment. i wasn't going to write you again, but when this came to me, i thought to myself, "if i pass this up, then i will have come close to writing Nearly, and will have not done it; precisely what i am trying to avoid (if you get what i'm saying). Back to the sighty. it matured and shriveled: it grew and waned: and then it left me terribly frustrated. at first, i thought this was your doing, but i realized it was mine. Nearly, for so long, i've come close to that which i greatly desire, but since i've pushed you away, i seem to be unintentionally avoiding the fulfillment of that desire; the proper recognition of preperation and focus. the sighty, Nearly, blinded me and left me wondering, "at the absense of Nearly, i have taken on his characteristics to help me deal with Reality." i said this to myself, i did! but i never thought you were entirely seperate from Reality, more like distant cousins, but now that you are gone, Reality feels all too real. Nearly, the sighty was a reveleation of thought, and i'm still figuring things out. but i know my feelings beyond a shadow of a doubt, if becoming you feels this uncomfortable, then i'm more sure than ever that i'll continue to keep my distance... (photo by: Tatsuya Sato)

Dear Nearly: Part 2 "Nonetheless"

You were so close this time. Closer than i would like to remember. So what if i recall that?, when about four years ago, i immursed my camera in the river after slipping on a algae-covered stone, only to lift my camera from the water, completely dry. Thanks for that, and no i haven't forgotten, but you shouldn't write back to me. I recognize the rare moments of satisfaction and rhapsodic assistance. nonetheless, Nearly, a majority of the time I'm pulling out my hair because of your taunting invinsibility. yesterday, while visiting my friend at the ice cream shop you made me look foolish as i was forced to squirm my body to avoid sharing my ice cream scoop with the floor. Although i didn't actually spill the dessert, i made myself look foolish. Again you assult my demeanor, and for what, if nothing more than a good laugh at my expense, for the fear created in me of what might have happened. So i will repay you by discontinuing correspondense. How does it feel to be left behind by that same invisible barricade with which you always exclude me? Don't be afraid of what might happen, just know that it will happen. Not quite, Nearly, not quite... (photo by: Wm. Rieppe Moore)

Dear Nearly: Part 1 "Definince"

once again i'm driving down the interstate and you're right there beside me. it's not fair though, because i never consider you nor do i appreciate how you seemlessly pervade my privacy; though i'm so thankful when you quickly depart. for instance how would you like it if i confronted you while you were on 1-20 driving beside ignorant, listless truckers, and i put you in a position where you barely slip between two semi trucks before they sandwich you, almost leaving your conceptual carcass all over the overrun highways of America. or how about i produce confusing mapquest directions for you and just send a policeman after you, and though you'd only get a warning, you'd almost begin to cry. you see, Nearly, it's not fair that you corner me and so many of my friends into these peculiar, unrelatable, inconsequential situations, where the only questions that remains are, "who should i tell?" "how should i convey this absurdity?" or "is this situational irony or just madness?" i hope that you don't mind hearing that after today, i don't want to see you again. i'm vanquishing contact with you, i'm terminating friendship with you, and i'm going to start hanging out with the infectious characer, Really. sure i know what your thinking, "what a definite name," but i need that positive influence. plus Really's close to Surely and Fully whove been together for centuries. anyways after the insidious outbusts today, i determined that we could no longer see each other... (photo by: Elizabeth Dozier Steedly)