Prologue. Epilogue. The End.

In November of 2011, I took a short trip up to DC. Over the course of those three days, I caught up with an old friend who A. I never get to see quite enough, and B. has no clue how much he has positively affected me over the years.

Throughout the late 90’s, our bands toured together each summer.
By then, he’d already travelled the world, experiencing some of the most unbelievable situations in the Middle East, Central Europe, and South America.
And from his epiphanies (usually told at the end of each night on tour), I’d always turn in feeling the urge to pen down some stories of my own.

Leaving DC on that afternoon in November, thirteen years after we’d met, I finally decided to start.
(See ‘What the desert Brings.‘ A story inspired by one of the last conversations we had on that drizzling Thursday in DC).
A year and a half later, after finishing forty personal tales, I’ve come to realize how difficult it is to write. The process of bleeding out pages upon pages of words. Then taking dozens of painful hours to add and subtract, to cut and paste, to finalize something tangible, reiterating a meaningful personal experience.
It was absolutely consuming.
I’ll admit, I lost quite a bit of sleep, always anxious, thinking non-stop about that next narrative kernel, the heart of the next story.
For getting me through this narrative project, I want to give thanks to the inspiring words of Paul Theroux and Don Morrill. Of Czeslaw Milosz and Wallace Stevens. When I wanted to give up, I picked up an excerpt of their work and felt a sense of ‘umph’ to keep going.

Thanks to my wife, Ariel Gunn, for letting me squint at my computer for countless hours. Brainstorming, cutting, editing, finalizing. Her patience and support were necessary to get me through this.

Thanks to Jason Morris and Steve Crandall for hosting the BD through
Thanks to Jason especially for his quick email responses after each post. When I felt like shit, drained from staring at my computer for five hours, his little notes of encouragement helped get my pen back onto paper.

Thanks to my family for their support, and especially my youngest brother who, unbeknownst to him, gave me the inspiration back in December of 2012 (while visiting him in NYC) to continue the BD. I thought it best to dedicate this last piece to him. To a point in our lives when we decided to put things aside and become friends. (See ‘Philos.’)

Lastly, thanks to everyone who tuned in, took the time to read, and shared their experiences with me in turn.
Empathy is a beautiful thing.

The Boredom Diaries will continue on in some fashion. Maybe photos, some quick narrative, pieces of poetry, who knows…stay tuned in a couple weeks and we shall see.
Hopefully I won’t let you down.

I plan on self publishing these forty stories by the end of the year. If you’re interested in a copy, please contact me here:

Thanks for reading.

Good Night.

Matt Coplon

Work by day. Ride by evening. Write by night.