I watched him as he started slowly walking onto the stage, grabbing some crumpled sheets of paper out of his pocket while mumbling curses under his breath. This speech would be interesting.
Sam mumbled as she dropped her car keys on the floor of the dilapidated old building. As she bent to pick then up, she felt a shift and dropped to her bees as the floor shuddered beneather her. She collapsed under the falling debris as the building crumbled to the ground.
Sarahrah
What I do everyday, Low speech, sleepy speech, mubling can happen when your trying to be mean or spiteful. mubling something under your breath. it can be good or bad.
Karen
it is said something in cheeks and not to here words from mouth
xenia
his incessant mumbling caused extreme annoyance to those around him. glancing around i could see their looks were murdrous.
Her mumbling was her irritating way of talking back without actually being in-my-face defiant. But we both knew what was going on. She was back talking. Every mumble was met with a ‘request’ to speak up.
Renae Yawnoc
i’m mumbling
mumbling about the future
mumbling about the past
trying to figure out where i’m headed
should stop or keep going i never seem to have the answer
When I walked into the funeral, I couldn’t understand a thing being said by anyone. All the voices around me were syncronistic mumbles that left me without any idea of what was being said. All I could really go on was the tone, which was generally dismal and sad, what one could expect at the funeral of a pot dealer.
Oh, this is a funny word to me. It brings a smile to my face. Why? Because recently my dad has been asking me all the time, ” What was the you just mumbled?” I guess I have a problem with mumbling.
Allison
mumbling under the breath off he went, she couldnt hear anything, to her it was just incoherent rubbish she was uninterested in. To her this meant he was more of a child than she was. She also knew it wasnt absolutely true. She could get just as bad as he could. They were the worst pair ever, twins who were beyond the spiritual connection, they were twins after all.
Shar
I stand shyly in the corner, barely daring to say what I need to say. I mumble something vaguely coherently and you cough, asking me whether I’ve spoken. I blurt out “yes” and you ask me to repeat myself. It’s hard making such a request and and I struggle to make myself heard above the nay-saying voices in my head.
I don’t like when people mumble about things. I would rather have them speak up and express their thoughts and feelings. This would probably avoid misunderstandings and hard feelings, so I think it is important not to keep things for oneself or start creating a bad environment behind people’s backs.
I sat mumbling in the back yard. Who did they think they were talking like that. I curled my hands up into balls pressing my nails into my skin. Argh! I hate them.
mumbling. people think thats what i do all the time because I talk to fast but in reality, i just have so many thoughts to get out at one time that it all just rushes out. like astream of water that can’t be stoped. keep up. cause that’s the only way you are gonna get it. I hate repeating myself. listen faster. some people mumble for no reason, but not I. not this girl who thinsk so muh
Christina D
i sat mumbling in the back yard. Who they think they are talking about me like that? I can’t believe it. I ball my palms up into tight balls pressing my fingernails into my skin.
Mary Corbally
how do you walk
how do you move your feet
when the voices mumble
the ground beneath you gurgles
you have nowhere solid to step
how do you try
when the sludge sloshes at your ankles
and your head is ablaze with worry
and nothing sticks
and nothing fades
over in the next aisle
I heard mumbling
then laughter
loud and raucous
then more quiet discussion
and more laughter
early morning conversations
shouldn’t be so exciting
Nia Ceridwyn
there is one thing i am good at … mumbling. i know some people have big dreams, some are astronauts , but i can mumble. look mommy, the president is on tv. look mommy , she mumbles!!! hahhahaa, anyway life is beautiful.
ancaaa
I can’t hold it in anymore. My pain starts to bubble up and harsh words well up in my head, my heart, my throat. Words start to escape if only to let in a bubble of air in exchange for relief. My mumbling drives you nuts, but you have no idea how little of the anger inside me gets out in vocal form. I want to scream, hit something, pelt you with a wet rubber glove to start the duel–but I don’t.
I hold.
Still.
Most of the time.
Except my mouth, my annoying mouth. The words that slip out are tinder to a fire I want to start. I need to start! So many words want to be out in the open because so much isn’t, and a part of me wants it to be. We can’t fix what we can’t see or feel or hear or know about. Closing eyes and heart does nothing but offer a chance to hide what needs to come into the light. But like any creature of darkness, pain hides deep hoping it will fade into something quiet and invisible and one day gone. But the silence is only breeding resentment; pushing me further away. Your demand for make believe is building a roped bridge I have no desire to venture across, and I think you see it too swinging dangerously about in the wind, supports tattering, plank steps rotting away in the elements of time. And my mumbling starts again, because I’m not brave enough to run away or toss a lit torch on your bridge and rid of you. Yet.
As I stumble, I look to you, holding me close
You mumble the truth, forward, separate
Mumbling and bumbling, running it’s course
All I mumble now is discourse and remorse
Even though I’d already moved into the other room, I could still hear her mumbling her complaints, not bold enough to voice them aloud. I couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the revelation and hummed quietly to myself as I all but skipped from the house and towards my car.
She might think she owns me, that I’m hers to do with as she wills, but, at least for now, I’m the one in control.
And that’s enough for me.
I usually do this when I don’t know how to answer someone.
Mumble.
It never makes any sense and you just end up repeating yourself anyways.
Mumble.
It rhymes with humble, bumble.
Mumble.
It soothes some who are nervous.
Mumbling,
He sat there mumbling, unable to say more than a few syllables. He couldn’t say more, they would know. They would all know if he said anything, but would they know if he said nothing at all? Sweat dripped down his face as he paced the room, all 5 men were staring at him anxiously, waiting.
Ginger
As I stumble, I look to you, holding me close
You mumble the truth, forward, separate
Mumbling and bumbling, running it’s course
All I mumble now is discourse and remorse
GWO
The words tumbled in my mouth, tasting like my own lack of self confidence and my mother’s disappointment. Rolling endlessly, my tongue just a limp muscle pushing around inadequate ideas.
Most monsters have teeth. Or arms. And eyes. multiple, scary, dark. But see,sir – mumbling monsters have lips. While your ordinary monsters are scary, mumbling monsters are.. creepy, disturbing. Not rape-y like the tentacle monsters, but molest-y, like they’re going to slowly caress your cheek while you sleep.
So, sir, I was serious when I said I didn’t care about the ordinary monsters – deliver me, deliver me from the mumbling ones.
THEY_HAVE_EELS
A girl in my class today asked a question, but her question trailed off in a mumble. I asked her to clarify, and she repeated it verbatim – including the mumble. We use mumbles to protect ourselves when we’re self-conscious or embarrassed. How interesting that something so weak and indecisive is armor.
I was mumbling to myself in my head just now, (although I dont think that’s actually true because how can one speak softly or incoherently in thoughts), but anyway I was because I wasn’t really listening to myself, couldn’t hear the words trying to be said. my voice of reason is a notorious mumbler, but I’m trying these days to buck it up, give it more confidence, more of a voice. It would help if I started listening to it I guess.
She wouldn’t stop her mumbling. It was incessant, and unnecessary, and I could not understand what she was saying which made it worse.
“Can you stop?” I wanted to yell. But I kept my mouth shut.
It was driving me crazy, though, and I would yell soon enough.
Mumbling my actions aloud. It’s a bit of a nervous habit I picked up. If I’m in a room with somebody and don’t have any real conversations to have with them (which is often), I’ll start narrating what I’m doing. “I’m just gonna type up the rest of this email…?” Complete with the upward shift in intonation.
She should speak up more. Shy girl, she should try harder. You should wash your hair more; you should look more like us. She walks so close to the lockers… where did she get that bruise? I saw her walking once under powder-blue skies. I don’t know which I said then: hello or goodbye.
Simra
mumbling is a way of speaking in which the words are not clearly audible. it might be because of nervousness, lack of self confidence, shyness or also due to inablity to talk to someone you admire.
I watched him as he started slowly walking onto the stage, grabbing some crumpled sheets of paper out of his pocket while mumbling curses under his breath. This speech would be interesting.
Sam mumbled as she dropped her car keys on the floor of the dilapidated old building. As she bent to pick then up, she felt a shift and dropped to her bees as the floor shuddered beneather her. She collapsed under the falling debris as the building crumbled to the ground.
What I do everyday, Low speech, sleepy speech, mubling can happen when your trying to be mean or spiteful. mubling something under your breath. it can be good or bad.
it is said something in cheeks and not to here words from mouth
his incessant mumbling caused extreme annoyance to those around him. glancing around i could see their looks were murdrous.
Her mumbling was her irritating way of talking back without actually being in-my-face defiant. But we both knew what was going on. She was back talking. Every mumble was met with a ‘request’ to speak up.
i’m mumbling
mumbling about the future
mumbling about the past
trying to figure out where i’m headed
should stop or keep going i never seem to have the answer
When I walked into the funeral, I couldn’t understand a thing being said by anyone. All the voices around me were syncronistic mumbles that left me without any idea of what was being said. All I could really go on was the tone, which was generally dismal and sad, what one could expect at the funeral of a pot dealer.
she collects his words
in a cup of mumbled sounds
like watered down wine
Oh, this is a funny word to me. It brings a smile to my face. Why? Because recently my dad has been asking me all the time, ” What was the you just mumbled?” I guess I have a problem with mumbling.
mumbling under the breath off he went, she couldnt hear anything, to her it was just incoherent rubbish she was uninterested in. To her this meant he was more of a child than she was. She also knew it wasnt absolutely true. She could get just as bad as he could. They were the worst pair ever, twins who were beyond the spiritual connection, they were twins after all.
I stand shyly in the corner, barely daring to say what I need to say. I mumble something vaguely coherently and you cough, asking me whether I’ve spoken. I blurt out “yes” and you ask me to repeat myself. It’s hard making such a request and and I struggle to make myself heard above the nay-saying voices in my head.
I don’t like when people mumble about things. I would rather have them speak up and express their thoughts and feelings. This would probably avoid misunderstandings and hard feelings, so I think it is important not to keep things for oneself or start creating a bad environment behind people’s backs.
ah, I don’t know! I can’t do this. Mumbling stop mumbling. Speak up. Speak clearly. I can’t hear you. Seriously why don’t you just speak up?
I sat mumbling in the back yard. Who did they think they were talking like that. I curled my hands up into balls pressing my nails into my skin. Argh! I hate them.
mumbling. people think thats what i do all the time because I talk to fast but in reality, i just have so many thoughts to get out at one time that it all just rushes out. like astream of water that can’t be stoped. keep up. cause that’s the only way you are gonna get it. I hate repeating myself. listen faster. some people mumble for no reason, but not I. not this girl who thinsk so muh
i sat mumbling in the back yard. Who they think they are talking about me like that? I can’t believe it. I ball my palms up into tight balls pressing my fingernails into my skin.
how do you walk
how do you move your feet
when the voices mumble
the ground beneath you gurgles
you have nowhere solid to step
how do you try
when the sludge sloshes at your ankles
and your head is ablaze with worry
and nothing sticks
and nothing fades
grumbling stumbling tumbling low voice talking junk fumbling crumbling rumbling humbling dumbling vroom gumbo jumbo whispering smart mouth mouthing off
you’re always mumbling
telling me things I can’t understand
why won’t you just speak.
Just say the words out loud, pronounce them as if you mean it.
Because I hope you do.
over in the next aisle
I heard mumbling
then laughter
loud and raucous
then more quiet discussion
and more laughter
early morning conversations
shouldn’t be so exciting
there is one thing i am good at … mumbling. i know some people have big dreams, some are astronauts , but i can mumble. look mommy, the president is on tv. look mommy , she mumbles!!! hahhahaa, anyway life is beautiful.
I can’t hold it in anymore. My pain starts to bubble up and harsh words well up in my head, my heart, my throat. Words start to escape if only to let in a bubble of air in exchange for relief. My mumbling drives you nuts, but you have no idea how little of the anger inside me gets out in vocal form. I want to scream, hit something, pelt you with a wet rubber glove to start the duel–but I don’t.
I hold.
Still.
Most of the time.
Except my mouth, my annoying mouth. The words that slip out are tinder to a fire I want to start. I need to start! So many words want to be out in the open because so much isn’t, and a part of me wants it to be. We can’t fix what we can’t see or feel or hear or know about. Closing eyes and heart does nothing but offer a chance to hide what needs to come into the light. But like any creature of darkness, pain hides deep hoping it will fade into something quiet and invisible and one day gone. But the silence is only breeding resentment; pushing me further away. Your demand for make believe is building a roped bridge I have no desire to venture across, and I think you see it too swinging dangerously about in the wind, supports tattering, plank steps rotting away in the elements of time. And my mumbling starts again, because I’m not brave enough to run away or toss a lit torch on your bridge and rid of you. Yet.
As I stumble, I look to you, holding me close
You mumble the truth, forward, separate
Mumbling and bumbling, running it’s course
All I mumble now is discourse and remorse
Mumble
Even though I’d already moved into the other room, I could still hear her mumbling her complaints, not bold enough to voice them aloud. I couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the revelation and hummed quietly to myself as I all but skipped from the house and towards my car.
She might think she owns me, that I’m hers to do with as she wills, but, at least for now, I’m the one in control.
And that’s enough for me.
.
.
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.
.
I usually do this when I don’t know how to answer someone.
Mumble.
It never makes any sense and you just end up repeating yourself anyways.
Mumble.
It rhymes with humble, bumble.
Mumble.
It soothes some who are nervous.
Mumbling,
He sat there mumbling, unable to say more than a few syllables. He couldn’t say more, they would know. They would all know if he said anything, but would they know if he said nothing at all? Sweat dripped down his face as he paced the room, all 5 men were staring at him anxiously, waiting.
As I stumble, I look to you, holding me close
You mumble the truth, forward, separate
Mumbling and bumbling, running it’s course
All I mumble now is discourse and remorse
The words tumbled in my mouth, tasting like my own lack of self confidence and my mother’s disappointment. Rolling endlessly, my tongue just a limp muscle pushing around inadequate ideas.
Most monsters have teeth. Or arms. And eyes. multiple, scary, dark. But see,sir – mumbling monsters have lips. While your ordinary monsters are scary, mumbling monsters are.. creepy, disturbing. Not rape-y like the tentacle monsters, but molest-y, like they’re going to slowly caress your cheek while you sleep.
So, sir, I was serious when I said I didn’t care about the ordinary monsters – deliver me, deliver me from the mumbling ones.
A girl in my class today asked a question, but her question trailed off in a mumble. I asked her to clarify, and she repeated it verbatim – including the mumble. We use mumbles to protect ourselves when we’re self-conscious or embarrassed. How interesting that something so weak and indecisive is armor.
I was mumbling to myself in my head just now, (although I dont think that’s actually true because how can one speak softly or incoherently in thoughts), but anyway I was because I wasn’t really listening to myself, couldn’t hear the words trying to be said. my voice of reason is a notorious mumbler, but I’m trying these days to buck it up, give it more confidence, more of a voice. It would help if I started listening to it I guess.
when he saw me he stood mumbling
She wouldn’t stop her mumbling. It was incessant, and unnecessary, and I could not understand what she was saying which made it worse.
“Can you stop?” I wanted to yell. But I kept my mouth shut.
It was driving me crazy, though, and I would yell soon enough.
Mumbling, mumbling, mumbling…saying so much but saying nothing at all.
Mumbling my actions aloud. It’s a bit of a nervous habit I picked up. If I’m in a room with somebody and don’t have any real conversations to have with them (which is often), I’ll start narrating what I’m doing. “I’m just gonna type up the rest of this email…?” Complete with the upward shift in intonation.
She should speak up more. Shy girl, she should try harder. You should wash your hair more; you should look more like us. She walks so close to the lockers… where did she get that bruise? I saw her walking once under powder-blue skies. I don’t know which I said then: hello or goodbye.
mumbling is a way of speaking in which the words are not clearly audible. it might be because of nervousness, lack of self confidence, shyness or also due to inablity to talk to someone you admire.