The world doesn’t get less scary. We just get older. People are resilient because they have to be and while the world is unequal in how it distributes advantages, nature itself is indiscriminate. It’s not that no one is safe, but that safety is a transient state, and that every calm moment is a gift. Continue reading “august 20, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
Author Archives: mattwesnilsen
august 13, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world
You wrote in your blog that Chutes Too Narrow by the Shins was the best album of 2003. That’s the same year that Magnolia Electric Co. by Songs: Ohia came out, so if you were still alive I would call and tell you you were full of shit. But since I didn’t know you that well while you were here, I decided to hear you out.Continue reading “august 13, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
august 6, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world
It feels like the world has a head cold. Nothing serious, but a constant, slow drip. You dreamt of floods and you drive in rain, and you can’t get the right wiper speed without the plastic blades whimpering against the glass, but your music is just right. The world outside is wet but the rainContinue reading “august 6, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
july 30, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world
Some days you just wake up evil. At least, I do. And by evil, I mean angry. But it doesn’t start that way. The REM cycle doesn’t seem to agree with me. Put differently, trying to catch up on chronic sleep debt in one night never makes me feel good. Either way, I got eight hoursContinue reading “july 30, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
july 23, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world
We’ve finally arrived at the present. I’m not driven to write about much, other than to reflect on a weekend filled with gigs, pools, and political upheaval. The two-week buffer of material I had, until now, has disappeared after two weeks of inactivity, one justifiable and one less so. This is part of an enduringContinue reading “july 23, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
july 2 – performative journaling at the End of the world
Nothing screams America like explosions in the sky. Friday. $4 Coors Light, a beautiful night, a nice walk down to see some fireworks. But then Toby Keith had to go and ruin it. Maddy and I were standing in this “beer garden” cordoned off by orange temporary construction fencing. We had walked down to thisContinue reading “july 2 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
june 25, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world
I don’t want to do this. But there are lots of things I don’t want to do lately, and that lack of desire has been winning out more than I’m comfortable with. I enjoy writing, and I’ve been enjoying these journals, and I feel better than I did before I wrote them once I’m done,Continue reading “june 25, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
june 18, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world
I found my first gray hair yesterday. They’ve been in my beard for years, but this is the first one to grow out of my head. And it’s all Bruce Springsteen’s fault. After sustained and enthusiastic recommendation by one of my good friends, I finally tried out the ’78 album Darkness at the Edge of Town, andContinue reading “june 18, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
june 11, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world
Sunday, I was hungover. This is no surprise. Many Sundays have begun that way for me. It was nothing I hadn’t experienced before: waking up and having just a moment or two of no pain, before I started feeling blood pound in my temples, and my head started to throb, and nausea settled in. Typically,Continue reading “june 11, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
june 4, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world
How boring would life be if it wasn’t all by chance? It was the usual setting for a conversation with friends about fate: the only light came from a lit anti-insect candle, beers were warming in our hands, and we sat around a wooden table on my buddy’s deck while I calculated how much moneyContinue reading “june 4, 2024 – performative journaling at the End of the world”
matt nilsen 