Words are not enough to impart what this feels like. I have heard from others what it feels like to be brokenhearted, but nothing could have prepared me for a feeling quite as unique as this. I have no appetite, nothing gives me joy, and the only thing I look forward to is sleep. I am alone, but this time really and truly alone, because I cannot bring myself to even fake the want of company.
I pulled myself up yesterday and drove to Northport for the Red Hot Chili Peppers tribute band audition. I was early, and figuring I could get in there and soundcheck a bit, I walked into the converted garage/studio. Turns out I was not the first audition of the day after all, a young long haired man stood with his mic ready and stared at me walking in. He was nice enough, and closely resembled brandon boyds younger, inbred brother (I am aware there is no such thing, however, if there was, that guy would be it).
Having already commited my faux pas, I accepted the invitation to sit and listened. The funny thing was, I wasn’t scared, or very nervous even. I would like to believe that it was because I know how hard I have worked, and I knew how good I was, but I knew it was the fact that I was almost completely numb inside, and couldn’t feel much of anything. Inbred boyd did a fairly decent kiedis, but I could tell right away that his voice had no power. He also stood, mic in hand, hunched over in front of the song book. In his defense, I needed the lyrics many times myself, however, I imagine I was a bit more subtle than that. I broke his vocal skills down methodically, and it surprised me how easy it was to diagnose him. He did not sing on the vowel, or on the breath. Therefore, he had no resonance, and no power.
He ran a little over the hour, but I waited patiently while they did two more songs (I was to later find out that his late-ness was the reason for that). At one point, MID-SONG mind you, he reached in his pocket and ANSWERED his CELL PHONE. It was then and there that I utterly dismissed him as a joke. So then it was my turn. I decided to warm up with ‘come together’, and second verse in, I notice jr. boyd sitting in the chair I had just recently occupied across from the mic stand. Touche’, I thought. However, it was to no avail. The second song in was ‘Snow (hey oh), and by that time I was in a groove, jr. stood up, shook his head slightly and left mid-song with a quick look around and a half-hearted ‘call me’ gesture. He had good reason to be dejected. I absolutely nailed it. I didn’t need a nod, or even a word of confirmation to know this. I took the sound, the melodies, the lyrics (the ones I had down anyway), and owned them.
My entire head buzzed. My vowels were sharp (for the most part), and my cadence was spot on. I stayed and did songs until almost 10. My audition was from 7-8. At the end, the drummer (and founder), asked me a series of questions about myself, my schedule, etc. He then reached behind him and pulled a cd out of the hard drive set up on a desk next to the drum kit and handed it to me (I noticed during breaks he was hurriedly doing something on the computer, and apparently, that was it). 30 songs, mp3 format. We all shook hands and they debated how much time to give me with the music before doing it again. We all agreed a week would work for everyones schedule, and give me plenty of time to listen, and learn. I left there knowing that unless Anthony Kiedis himself walked in, that job was mine.
I got back into my car, stared for a few moments, and tried to be happy. Quickly it occured to me how fruitless this was, I should have just been happy. Instead, my attempt at a smile turned into a sob, and I drove home crying softly, just wanting my bed. I knew the audition was automatic, ‘The show must go on’, but I hoped it would lift my spirits anyway. Nothing can lift my spirits. I fell asleep quickly, around ten-thirty, and had a short dream that I received a text message. It was one of those dreams that fool you, because what happens very much resembles reality. My phone went off, and since it was on loud volume, and lying next to me, I grabbed it and read, “Don’t give up”. It was from her.
I awoke at five-thirty this morning and actually looked at the phone, just to double-check.
I do not wish to speak to anyone. Friends, family, etc. I do not need anyone trying to make me ‘feel better’ by minimizing what this is like. Nor do I need to hear anyone elses tale of heartbreak and woe. I have seen and heard plenty. ‘Feeling better’ does not even seem like a possibility. I am crushed.
Until I wish to speak no more, it will be here.