In these silences something may rise

6.15.06
9:30 PM
I just had a long conversation with Barrett. None of you know Barrett and that’s just fine. Barrett is a guy I met at my last NIN concert in New York City in November (I think). He is the only person I know with whom I can share my excitement and anticipation of this concert. And that’s okay. Honestly, I don’t give a fuck if the person I’m going to the concert with or even my girlfriend of six years (the girlfriend who I started dating, sort of, BECAUSE of NIN’s music) doesn’t see eye to eye with my 6’8 anticipation; as long as there is one person I can talk to about it. Barrett is that person. I didn’t feel self-conscious telling him I feel like a 6 year old girl on Christmas morning. Why? Because he totally empathizes with me. He knows EXACTLY what I am thinking and feeling because he is thinking and feeling it too. And it isn’t just about the fact that I can squeal like a little girl about this with him. He and I can discuss the evolution of the setlists from the first leg of this tour to this current leg. We can talk about how this ever-so-subtle change to the lyrics might mean a lot more than what people think it means. We can talk about how, after so much time has passed, Reznor can always top himself without seeming like he’s trying to do so. We can talk about just what the hell is motivating Jordie to wear little black dots all over his face. These are the things that I can’t even share with my girlfriend of over half a decade because she doesn’t give a shit about these tiny, little details. I really don’t know why, but whatever. It’s just something I have to deal with, and I can, thanks to Barrett and the other obsessive, scrutinizing fans of the bands I like.
To refocus myself slightly, my chat with Barrett (who has seen NIN about 20 times now to my 5 times) has quadrupled my excitement. No…quadrupled it a thousand fold. NO! Quadrupled it a thousand fold...XMAX. Yeeeessssss. That’s like over forty thousand infinities for all you non-Paulitospherical mathematicians reading this.
You know who you fucking are.

9:59 PM
Earlier tonight, a call came through that was someone’s voicemail. In other words, someone called someone else and hung up but the end of their answering machine message was transferred to my line. I waited for the beep and started whispering, “In these silences something may rise” over and over. I really hope that affects whoever gets that message.