Reaching out to the New Year

I have trouble talking to friends who are going through rough times. It’s a cowardice I’m ashamed of, as I pride myself for being the rock my they can rely on. I don’t waver under crisis. I’ve weathered many events. I have perspective. This is the faith they have put in me. It is who I am. But even though I offer this sturdy character, on the inside I’m weak. Like the rest of us. So when my friends are suffering through their own trials, it’s understood that I am there for them, but really, that’s not the truth. That’s just what we want to believe. I am half man half idea. It is better this way. Or that’s what we want it to be.

Really though, I should write my friend who is in jail, and call my other friend who is alone in Miami, suffering a loss. I should be doing this. But I don’t have the will. I can’t muster up the bravery. What would I say? Who would I be? The rock, the calm, the idea? Or the weakling, the coward, the man?

Should I understand, should I nod my head and sigh along with them? Surely, this would make them feel less lonely, but maybe it would also further realize their situation, and plunge them deeper into despair. I don’t want to inspire more dread. But I feel that’s all my presence would do. I can’t help but acknowledge the circumstance and involve myself with it. I can’t help but understand how hopeless things can be. There is something very special about sharing misery with a friend, something intimate and joyous, as ironic as that may sound. But in the end, it’s not too healthy. Ultimately we have to go at it alone, and when that time comes, that false comfort in misery grows nasty and harder to bear.

So should I be naïve, and pretend that the world’s complexities can easy be untangled? Should I groan in disbelief at the petty burdens life deals us? Something can be said about facing a conquering presence when lost is ones own fragility. It gives us confidence, inspiration. It provides us with an example of courage, one we can hold on to when it seems there is nothing left inside of us to grasp. I can be humorous and aloof. Filled with a spirit bigger than their worries, unconcerned with the daily routine of battle and only considering the victory of war. This approach is usually welcome, not everyone needs to be reminded of their sorrows. But no one wants to feel their friends don’t really care.

This is the fine line I straddle. And the anxiety of it prevents me from reaching out when I probably should. I suppose it is just how I am and I should just resign myself to this conflict. We all suffer for it, but this is what we do.

All this was a tangent, what I really wanted to post was HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

I'm not DJing this year, which I choose not to do. I’m sick of working on New Year. Fuck that shit. So me and the lady might hit up a pretty cool cocktail party, then head to a friends loft party in Williamsburg [which I might DJ at but there is no pressure] then possibly a warehouse party, and/or the bar for their lil' new years soirée. I hope you guys ring it in right. What are your plans?