She was quite a nuisance, Mrs. Beth; all she did was gossip. Every day she wore yellow, as it was her favorite color, and would go buzzing about the town telling everyone what was what. That’s where she got her nick-name: Buzzing Beth.
I heard the sound when going past my neighbor’s apartment. A cute, if quiet girl, I immediately thought to myself, “Oh my. I wonder if that could be… but what else could it be but that!? And then, to destroy my short fantasy, she ran screaming out of her apartment pursued by a bee.
Those old women are constantly buzzing with the neighborhood gossip. Especially Milly, she’s the worst. You never know your place with them, sometimes they like you, sometimes they hate you. Just don’t get caught up in it.
Buzzing does not evven begin to describe. I ft as if something had crept into my sub conscious and began playing a song I would never be able to understand inside a room where there was no lock and there was no key for was desperate to release the prisoner. But that could’ve been the synthetic marijuana talking.
He tells me in his youth he used to go out walking drunk and buzzing on some other cocktail of drugs through the woods with a little more reckless abandon than he does now. Maybe ‘shrooms or acid, a bit of pot, I can’t remember the exact combination. This isn’t to say he hasn’t tripped like this in cities or even at house parties, but he confides that the woods at night feel like home. He says city is too garish and its dimensions don’t feel infinite. Rather the city is an artifice with layers to unpeel, but it’s not as deep or primal.
So once, as a younger man, he and his friends took a nighttime stroll in this “buzzing” state through a forest. Somewhere in the canopy they heard an animal capture its prey, unsure of the prey animal that cried out in fear, he said everyone was attune to its death and felt some weird solidarity with it in its final moments. Hmmm. The way we choose to spend our time and the reflections they spawn in retrospect can tell you a lot about the character of any given man.
they flutter around my mind like how the wind caresses the trees, birds, and clouds
they do not let me rest
but they do not let me faulter.
my thoughts, buzzing, make me who i am.
Buzzing is to make a low, continuous humming sound.this is usually at night and day and it disturb a lot . Mosquitoes and many type of different bees make this noise .
The lights dimmed, and the crowd silenced. Even the obnoxious arena announcer closed his mouth for a few precious seconds. The arena was buzzing with anticipation A sound like two cars of a freight train slamming together crashed through the stadium, met with cheers from the crowd. Spotlights hit the floor, and we traced them with our eyes across the court to the home entryway. A voice rang over the din, not so obnoxious now.
“WELCOME. YOUR 2015 NBA CHAMPION, GOLDEN… STATE… WARRIORS!” The crowd erupted in cheers. We had waited so long.
The streets were buzzing but it was hot, too hot late at night and then in bed later there was a buzzing and my heart sank as sweating buckets i got bitten and bitten and bitten.
The office is constantly buzzing with activity. I have learned to block it out as I work. Actually, not sure if it’s me blocking out the buzzing or if I have become dependent on it. I see people working with headphones over their ears, but ever time I try I get distracted. The buzz of the office, the buzz of activity, keeps me going. It invigorates me and helps energize.
A bee floated about, hopping from flower to flower and gathering honey on its stubby, black legs. It had a small basket for said honey, one that it would return to its queen as a sacrifice so that she would not consume the smaller multiples of bees lying about the hive. it was the way their soceity worked. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what they had to do to survive. Some bees lived and pushed through it their entire lives, others couldn’t bear with it.
Mike swatted at the fly. “Argh! Make it stop! I have to do homework!”
Unfazed, it flew back to his head and hovered around his ears. He glared at it and locked eyes. “Staring contest!”
Suddenly he felt himself shrinking. The fly was expanding. They were switching bodies!
The fly that had become Mike looked at the scattered clothes and then at the homework. “Tsk tsk, stupid human. That’s not how you evaluate a double integral!” He grabbed a pencil and began to write.
She was quite a nuisance, Mrs. Beth; all she did was gossip. Every day she wore yellow, as it was her favorite color, and would go buzzing about the town telling everyone what was what. That’s where she got her nick-name: Buzzing Beth.
I heard the sound when going past my neighbor’s apartment. A cute, if quiet girl, I immediately thought to myself, “Oh my. I wonder if that could be… but what else could it be but that!? And then, to destroy my short fantasy, she ran screaming out of her apartment pursued by a bee.
Those old women are constantly buzzing with the neighborhood gossip. Especially Milly, she’s the worst. You never know your place with them, sometimes they like you, sometimes they hate you. Just don’t get caught up in it.
Buzzing does not evven begin to describe. I ft as if something had crept into my sub conscious and began playing a song I would never be able to understand inside a room where there was no lock and there was no key for was desperate to release the prisoner. But that could’ve been the synthetic marijuana talking.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Mikey frowned as his phone continued to go off. He wasn’t that popular, honestly. At least, he didn’t think he was.
Fishing it out of the cushion sheets, Mikey practically blinded himself as they little screen shone bright through the darkness of the living room.
He tells me in his youth he used to go out walking drunk and buzzing on some other cocktail of drugs through the woods with a little more reckless abandon than he does now. Maybe ‘shrooms or acid, a bit of pot, I can’t remember the exact combination. This isn’t to say he hasn’t tripped like this in cities or even at house parties, but he confides that the woods at night feel like home. He says city is too garish and its dimensions don’t feel infinite. Rather the city is an artifice with layers to unpeel, but it’s not as deep or primal.
So once, as a younger man, he and his friends took a nighttime stroll in this “buzzing” state through a forest. Somewhere in the canopy they heard an animal capture its prey, unsure of the prey animal that cried out in fear, he said everyone was attune to its death and felt some weird solidarity with it in its final moments. Hmmm. The way we choose to spend our time and the reflections they spawn in retrospect can tell you a lot about the character of any given man.
they flutter around my mind like how the wind caresses the trees, birds, and clouds
they do not let me rest
but they do not let me faulter.
my thoughts, buzzing, make me who i am.
Buzzing is to make a low, continuous humming sound.this is usually at night and day and it disturb a lot . Mosquitoes and many type of different bees make this noise .
The lights dimmed, and the crowd silenced. Even the obnoxious arena announcer closed his mouth for a few precious seconds. The arena was buzzing with anticipation A sound like two cars of a freight train slamming together crashed through the stadium, met with cheers from the crowd. Spotlights hit the floor, and we traced them with our eyes across the court to the home entryway. A voice rang over the din, not so obnoxious now.
“WELCOME. YOUR 2015 NBA CHAMPION, GOLDEN… STATE… WARRIORS!” The crowd erupted in cheers. We had waited so long.
The streets were buzzing but it was hot, too hot late at night and then in bed later there was a buzzing and my heart sank as sweating buckets i got bitten and bitten and bitten.
The office is constantly buzzing with activity. I have learned to block it out as I work. Actually, not sure if it’s me blocking out the buzzing or if I have become dependent on it. I see people working with headphones over their ears, but ever time I try I get distracted. The buzz of the office, the buzz of activity, keeps me going. It invigorates me and helps energize.
A bee floated about, hopping from flower to flower and gathering honey on its stubby, black legs. It had a small basket for said honey, one that it would return to its queen as a sacrifice so that she would not consume the smaller multiples of bees lying about the hive. it was the way their soceity worked. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what they had to do to survive. Some bees lived and pushed through it their entire lives, others couldn’t bear with it.
Mike swatted at the fly. “Argh! Make it stop! I have to do homework!”
Unfazed, it flew back to his head and hovered around his ears. He glared at it and locked eyes. “Staring contest!”
Suddenly he felt himself shrinking. The fly was expanding. They were switching bodies!
The fly that had become Mike looked at the scattered clothes and then at the homework. “Tsk tsk, stupid human. That’s not how you evaluate a double integral!” He grabbed a pencil and began to write.