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Dear Trent,

I dreamt about you last night.

I dreamt that your show had become a big spectacle, with set changes and constumes; like a musical. You were wearing a purple sleeveless shirt, leather pants, and a shimmering turban, like a Maharishi. You were singing a song I had never heard -- a love song. I hardly recognized you under all that spangle. Your voice was soft and full of longing, and it made me sad. Moments before the show had begun, though, I'd peeked through the velvet curtains at the front of the stage and seen you, clad in plain dark colors, a guitar slung over your shoulder, eyebrows painted straight and low over sharp eyes, and the veins standing out on the pale insides of your arms under perfectly smooth skin. I knew you were you, in spite of it all.

I hope you're well, Trent.


Posted by Dierdre ~ in dear_trent, dreaming_of_you | Permalink


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interesting. last night I was dreaming that trent and I were kissing passionately. I don't know what made me dream that but I felt all weird about it, like it was just wrong to be doing that. he insisted it was okay. he was actually very sweet.


Posted by: bex | Mar 3, 2006 5:43:07 AM

I dreamt about Trent too, the other night. He was young in my dream, and was going to play in this shitty little club, and you had to climb up to this grimy ledge to get to the back of the stage. So everybody climbs up to this ledge on broken pipes and stuff, swearing about how only a total retard would build a building like this. (Sean Connery was there too. Go figure.) And Trent is the last one up. No one notices where he is till I glance back and see that he's somehow gotten himself turned the wrong way and is about to fall headfirst over this dumb ledge that shouldn't even be there in the first place. Seeing his slow slide belly-down off a ten foot wall makes me feel like I've been dipped in ice water. I scramble and catch him by his skinny combat-booted ankle and drag him backwards, and I'm shocked at how light he is, how easy it was to jerk him across the floor with one hand. Sean Connery tells him that he's a lucky bitch.

Then I dreamt it was nighttime, and I was running in a field, just running for the hell of it like you do when you're a kid, and Trent's there and he says "Why are you running?" But his tone says something more like "Why are you running like that, you utter retard?" Undeterred, I grab him by the hand and tug until him comes with me, and I show him a pretty stream and it's all glittery with moonlight. I tell him I want to give him a present, and he looks at me very seriously and holds out his cupped hands. But everything I give him, a smooth stone, a leaf, a piece of wood, turns into something else as soon as it touches his hands, so I keep snatching them away and giving him more things, willing them to stay the same as when I gave them. He's looking at me, then down at his hands, then back to me like he's concentrating, and a little confused at what I'm doing. Then I wake up. Weird.

Posted by: Muskles | Mar 3, 2006 6:34:00 AM

I *love* the turban, as though he had just walked out of "Moulin Rouge" or something.

I think the last Trent-related dream I had was this, from a long time ago. I had posted it earlier, but I had buried it in an older thread, so I don't know if anyone saw it. So I'll post it again for the hell of it.

Oh, and this morning was a muddle of dreams, but I did have a Trent-related dream. I dreamt that he was back here playing the closest arena, and I was in the front row for a soundcheck or something. The place was surprisingly empty, and I was the only person right up by the stage. At one point, Trent got off the stage and was roaming around the floor and at one point was singing "March of the Pigs" about two inches from my face, but I couldn't look at him because I would have just started laughing out of sheer discomfort and nervousness. Then he got back onstage, and there was some nice eye contact. Then, he took a break or whatever, and for some bizarre reason, I just *had* to have a hot chai. So I met up with a friend, and she drove slooooowly to the coffee shop (we all know which one, but I'm not going to say it because they're not paying me), and I'm like, come on! The concert's going to start! So I got my chai, but I was late for the show, and I was worried that because I left the arena, they wouldn't let me back in, and I can't really remember how that all turned out in the end...I think that's when it turned into other dreams, but all throughout the night, I kept thinking, "I have to tell my friend about when he was right next to me!" I even thought that when I woke up and remembered, oh yeah, that never happened.

Dammit. :(

Since then, there's been a scarcity of weird celebrity dreams.

Posted by: maise | Mar 3, 2006 7:09:09 AM

Oh no, Trent has had to postpone due to illness again! I don't know what his set-up is, but I'm sure if he's constantly traveling, it's keeping him from recovering fully. That totally sucks, though. The thing that seems to be going around takes people out for a week or more.

Posted by: maise | Mar 3, 2006 9:18:08 AM

Ok, now I'm starting to worry. Did you hear about him playing last night in a scarf, and not being able to get all the words out?

I hope he's getting some TLC. All this postponement must be really stressful, too; it can't be helping.

Poor Trent!

Posted by: Dierdre | Mar 3, 2006 9:37:31 AM

I'm sure it doesn't help that he has to primal scream a lot of his lyrics.

Nothing is worse than being sick while traveling. I remember having to make a drive from Indy to Chicago after catching a veritable plague from a friend's baby. I was feverish, and every swallow was like ingesting shards of glass. Then the car broke down on me in a McDonald's parking lot, and I kicked the shit out of it. That was not a good night.

I hope he gets himself on some good meds. I don't know if he allows himself codeine, cause it's a narcotic, but that's the good shit. Sometimes you just need to sleep the sleep of the dead for fourteen hours at a time.

Posted by: maise | Mar 3, 2006 10:10:54 AM

I'm am getting over a virus as we speak..I only made it back to work Wed. I was sick all weekend too. Though I came back half way through the week, no way could I have done something like perform..even today, my stomach feels yucky...and still have sinuses full of junk. Poor Trent...I think he needs to just rest..sleep...that's the only thing that's going to help. If it's a virus, it'll have to run it's course.


Posted by: bex | Mar 3, 2006 10:21:52 AM

whenever i dream of trent i'm usually following him some where. that or you know hot, craziness. but whatevs. i just remember in one dream i was married to him and we had a daughter but people wanted to kill us and he ran off and i fell in love with an old friend.... again- whatevs. my love is almost as deep as dierdre's...

Posted by: tori | Mar 3, 2006 11:02:46 PM

Hmmm...Aaron incurs head injury and spinal trauma in the newest "current" photo.

Posted by: maise | Mar 4, 2006 7:41:29 AM

aaron doesn't GET head injuries. head injuries get HIM.

Posted by: Jane C. | Mar 4, 2006 9:07:54 AM

What, like in Soviet Russia?

Posted by: maise | Mar 4, 2006 10:25:22 AM

Yay, I'm so glad I'm spending today screwing around on the web rather than making a dent in my overwhelming workload.

A *new* "Current" picture...it demonstrates the following:

Trent is still alive! (The extent of current sniffles is unknown.)

He's making music of some sort! Not even consumption can keep him from looking tanned and focused.

His hotel is fond of wood paneling!

Isn't his doggy the cutest?!!! I wonder if he always frequents animal-friendly lodgings or if he just sneaks the dog in.

Oh, and there's a new blog entry, too:

Once again, I'm sorry about these shows being postponed. I'm resting and should be up to speed for the next shows. I thought I was better and made it worse in Quebec. See you soon.


So there you have it.

Posted by: maise | Mar 4, 2006 1:09:06 PM

would he have to sneak? its freaking trent reznor!

Posted by: Jane C. | Mar 4, 2006 1:35:17 PM


Isn't my dog the best? My dog is totally the best. Look at her ears perk up when I play guitar! Do you like that new song? I bet you do!

I'm not going to tell you what her name is, lest some asshole appropriate it to post all sorts of obsessive nonsense on the Internet.

Who's my good girl? Who's my good girl? That's right! You are! [smooch, smooch, smooch] Where's your toy? Go get your toy! Now fetch!


Posted by: maise | Mar 4, 2006 3:41:18 PM

maise, honestly, you crack my shit up.
and i didnt even see the dog, i was staring at le rez. but the dog is frickin cute- not as cute as mine but cute.
anyone else fond of that hotel room? cause for some odd reason it looks really comfy.
maybe its the painting on the wall that i like or the obscenely good-looking man playing guitar in it... whatevs.

Posted by: Tori | Mar 4, 2006 7:24:43 PM

i have a lot of fucked up dreams...but one in particular that i can recall with trent being in it -
i was back in high school, sitting in front of the campus at a wooden table with my current b.f, trinity, and trent. so trin, trent, and myself had a goth-glam band, and we're just sitting, talking about practicing after school. trent keeps trying to get me to sleep with him, and trin gets pissed at him for hitting on me. i tell the boys to stop fighting and they quickly make up. then i look at trent [he looked like he did when he was younger...longer hair, lots of eyeliner] and told him he was beautiful. he smiled at me, and i remember how wonderful i felt to have seen it.

Posted by: b. | Mar 5, 2006 2:30:32 AM

I always dream about Trent, I eat,sleep and breathe him <3 Carrie

Posted by: Carrie | Mar 8, 2006 8:39:28 AM

Oh shoot, that reminds me...I had the most fucked-up dreams late last night. I thought I was having trouble sleeping and never felt like I was deeply asleep, but then there would be all this crazy, nonsensical imagery, which would make me think, oh maybe I am really sleeping. I don't remember it all, but here are some highlights:

1) For some reason Trent and I are riding a magical flying stretcher that is sailing through the air at about 80 mph above the Kennedy Expressway and twisting and turning and almost making me seasick.

2) Then we land in a park that is showing an outdoor movie at like 4 in the morning, and we're the only people there. They're projecting the film into the sky, which is quite visible. There are also fireworks and falling stars. Trent turns into my husband (BORING! just kidding, but still.), and I just want to fall asleep on the grass. But then I see some sort of park employee picking up trash, and I usher my husband away because I didn't want her to think that we were the sort of people to sleep in the middle of a park.

3) Then I take a trip to Iran to visit some landmark. There's a lot of talk about how if you lose your passport, you're totally screwed. I run into some Iranian woman who I don't actually know in real life, but apparently I hang out with her all the time in my dreams. She is really surprised to see me in her home country. She and her friends are really, really tall.

That's all I can remember right now.

Posted by: maise | Mar 8, 2006 9:08:13 AM

magical flying stretcher and really tall iranians...

yep, that's fucked up.


Posted by: b. | Mar 8, 2006 9:54:49 AM

I seem to suffer from matyr dreams. I don't know why. For some reason, in many of my dreams featuring, friends, family, celebrities I despritely love [there's only two of them], I always end up doing something incredably selfless and stupid to save them. Not that I wouldn't in actuality, but the chances are so small that something like that would happen that I'm not sure why I dream it. Meh.

Posted by: KittyKins | Aug 24, 2006 3:52:43 PM

Trent, the first time I saw you in stage. I was determined to come closer. To see your beautiful face and to see your mouth move as you chant your magnificent voice. I've had dozen pairs of feet trample all over me, just to get closer to you. I screamed for you until a sympathetic ear heard my calling. He reached his hand out for me and he lifted me up in the air. I felt like a feather, entranced by your spells. Drawing nearer and nearer to your angelic muse. Oh how unfortunate I was when a big uniformed monster plucked me from my cloud and casts me back to the burning pitt. Sorrow filled my soul while you chanted a verse about your empire of dirt.

Posted by: randomsadness | Aug 2, 2007 6:05:22 AM

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