Down in ZombieLand?

I am from New Jersey.  Born and raised.  Therefore the title to this particular Blahg, the reason for the deep-seated need to connect myself through any manner whatsoever to the greatest man to ever rise from the swamps of Jersey (all due respect to Frank Sinatra and Jack Nicholson and even Danny DeVito)….Anyway, I recently attended a day of general auditions.  I arrived early to get an audition slot closer to the sun’s rising than to its setting, I then sought out a private corner of the surrounding area to go over my audition piece.  Run the text over and over in my head if only to pass the time until my 10am less-than-two-minute performance.  Huddled, hidden in a remote corner of a building, I began to notice figures, shadows, flashes of movement against the horizon.  Something was moving out there in the distance.  Amidst the foliage.  Gesticulating figures expressing inaudible passion.  Then more could be seen displaying aggressive sound and fury.  Humming, warbling, swooning in sound.  Posing committedly for an absent audience.  (Like something out of Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead.)  Like a bunch of artistically driven zombies traipsing their way hopefully toward a single moment of recognition that might bring them back to life and make the hungry days before seem worthwhile…..It was a frightening sight.  A bunch of people who willingly seemed to have left their minds.  Walking about aimlessly yet with an enigmatic inner purpose.  I always feel oddly embarrassed the moments leading up to the audition.  The waiting truly is the hardest part.  Trying to act like it’s all good, and I’m not nervous when really I’m a hot mess inside.  Oh god.  The need, the desire, the want.  What a frickin’ wide open place to live.  To unabashedly have the proverbial hand out.

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