Gone Girl project
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
When I think about the United States, especially in the last five years, the word I would use describe it as is anxious. There is distrust, quiet cynicism that is infiltrated in the minds of everyone. Anxiety has permeated our system so deep that everyone he sees an enemy. We're been parted daily messages off our own impending do. And the opinions. Father sensory overload terms like Fig Mum's frightening number of times he visited last year. One spear. See theorists. A lot of us are. Amy bought them. People try to summarize the complexities of individual bite sized pieces. Twins? No. Come on, darling. Pinkies. In a world where we have all the answers at our fingertips, it unnerves us that we can never truly know what another person is thinking. We can never truly know the true intentions, and it makes us feel truly alone. So we put labels on others and on ourselves, love just want someone like she was a real rag, beautiful and smart, And cops seemed like a rich *****. Promise me we'll never be like them. Like who? All those awful couples we know. Those wives who treat their men like dancing to be trained and paraded husbands who treat their wives like the highway Patrol be outfoxed, waited. We create realities for others that aren't their own try to summarize them and turn taking away their humanity and justifying our own selfishness. Is she kind of standoffish? Ivy League rubs people the wrong way from New York. Oh, boo hoo! I got laid off like a ******* teenager. It wasn't like that. Okay? You have no idea how ****** it was with Amy off looking terrible. She made me feel flyover boy. I would get knots in my stomach just coming home, knowing she would be sitting there dissatisfied for, even walked in. The ******* killed flashed his throat with a box cutter. You went on national television and begged for me to save your life. And I we put distance in between us and people different than us. You're right. And I'm sorry. This place literally smells like feces. Nick and Amy will be gone. But then we never really existed. I loved a girl I was pretending to be until distance becomes commonplace and the label's become the way we see the world, the things we can't accept. We change and the things we can't change. We destroy until there's nothing left and we're left living in the fabrication. We communicate. You're honest. We're partners in crime. Thank you.