You bore me baby, get out.

Dan does this fun thing on Fridays over at his blog Unemployed Imagination. He gives us a specific amount of time, and we write whatever comes to mind. I’ve been really lax for the last long while, always meaning to join in on the fun but never quite getting there.

I blame school.

Also life.

But today, because I’m working on my Premiere Pro project (of which I have mixed feelings on) (mostly rage), I found myself with some time to play.

Here’s my contribution:

Started the music. Lets see where it goes. I’ve got two minutes. Nothing better than sitting and messing with soundtracks. Told me that ten years ago and I woulda laughed my ass off. Reverb, change pitch, change tempo (without changing pitch); kinda like a woman, right?
Go slow, baby, I like being romanced.
Fuck that. Faster honey, the faster we get this done, the faster I can go do the things I like to do. I like you, baby, but I don’t like you more than I like the voices in my head. They talk to me, they get me.
I wonder what the AU things are. Suppose I can play with them. Better than playing with you. They change, you don’t.
Such is life, right?
Messing with the music is like messing with someone’s soul, neither of them change, they just go different for a little while.
But always the music is better, no matter how many times you listen to it. Listening to you is like pulling teeth.
I’d rather have the root canal.
Sorry, is that mean?
I love you baby, I do. But not really. You bore me. Get the hell out.
Art is more fun, anyway.

Where’s yours?