The Method Werks - Session One

I'm in my tree talking to Trent Reznor and he's making me feel better.

Trent says to get it all out. Get it allll out. It's okay. That's it. Good.
Trent gives me a black t-shirt. He says they always help him feel better.
Trent reminds me that the ingredients required to make Screwdrivers are all in my fridge.
Trent doesn't have his hair anymore, even in my tree.
Trent is only helpful now because I can yell Physical. Before that he didn't really care.
Trent doesn't believe in unconditional.
Trent likes bruises.
Trent knows that really getting into The Becoming gives me chills, and he smiles.
Trent says that although his music doesn't really show it, he knows life is beautiful more often than not.
Trent doesn't work out, but has nice arms anyway. I venture it's the anger, he just shrugs.
Trent knows I'm scared. He looks kind of excited. I think this means it's good.
Trent laughs good-naturedly when I expound my theories on the Buddhist meanings in his songs.
Trent says you can't get away from suffering.
Trent is right.
Trent squints peacefully off into the distance as I stare down at my dangling feet and the grass beyond them.
Trent nods silently as I think that you can't placate a Buddhist with promises of the future.
Trent likes my orange, mean, cat.
Trent and I think there will be an unopened dusty cardboard box in my new apartment for a while.
Trent enjoys Tom Waits.
Trent says I need to sing more, I don't do it as much as I used to.
Trent appreciates sticking it to the man by slacking off like this, but says I should get back to work.

- David