#toddblogs

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

i like my body when it is with your

body. It is so quite new a thing.

Muscles better and nerves more.

i like your body. i like what it does,

i like its hows. i like to feel the spine

of your body and its bones,and the trembling

-firm-smooth ness and which i will

again and again and again

kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,

i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz

of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes

over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

-e e cummings

keating gave me a book of poetry from his office recently. he said it might give me inspiration for our next assignment. i found this poem in there, and i just wanted to share it. i think maybe it's too much for a dead poets society meeting- never mind that i still haven't mustered up the courage to read something out in the first place, haha.

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

sorry

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

did anyone else just see pitts and meeks run past them covered in feathers??

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

does anyone know where neil is?? i need to talk to him, i need to tell him

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

i have vague memories of my family owning a cat, when i was really little. she was a calico, too, and a stray-- we only got to keep her because jeffrey begged. we weren't allowed to bring her inside, but we would set out food and water for her every morning and play with her all the time. she was always kind of dirty, and my mom always worried she'd give us fleas. she scratched me a few times, because i was always way too excited to pet her, and jeff and i would always hide the cuts from my parents, because we knew they'd be mad. one time, she got me deep and the cut ended up getting infected. i hid it for a really long time, honestly. my parents only noticed because jeff bumped my hand at dinner and i cried out. anyways, i wouldn't tell them how it happened, but jeff did because he felt guilty. i was so mad at him. we weren't allowed to play with her after that, but we still left out food when we could. one day, she just stopped coming by. i don't know if i hope she's still out there or not-- maybe it's better now, that she's gone. it isn't easy living on your own like that.

2004

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

what do people do for valentine's day? like, i mean, in real life, not like the movies. and stuff that is normal to do when you haven't been dating for that long. just-- because. charlie keeps sending me articles about valentine's day proposals and knox won't stop suggesting the most cheesy ridiculous stuff ive ever heard and i just-! i need some real suggestions, please. not for any reason. just, you know. yeah. um, thanks, guys.

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

i hope it gets warmer outside soon. it's been so gray and depressing out lately.

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

jeffrey called. it was weird, talking to him; it's like we're strangers who just happened to grow up in the same house. he asked me how i felt about mom painting my old room. i didn't even know she'd been in there. i haven't talked to her or dad in anything other than texts or letters for the past three months. he went all quiet, when i told him. i wanted to make him feel guilty, maybe; so that i didn't have to feel it all alone. it didn't help. i wish he'd never called at all.

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

Todd glances upwards at the arrival of Stick, offering a characteristically timid smile, one that might appear awkward and stilted to some, but that in truth is miles from the deer-in-headlights reaction he would typically give to another person appearing in front of him. His hands tremble slightly where they peek out from the sleeves of his coat and hold the script, shivering at the cold wind coming off of the water, which is still spotty with sheets of ice that have yet to melt in the blinding January sunshine. His cheeks are flushed pink with exertion, pulled into Neil's dramatics without fail every time they read lines. "Hey, Stick." Todd's voice is soft, but not with anxiety as he greets his friend.

Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary.

DEAD POETS SOCIETY dir. Peter Weir

[attendingthetale]

every time i develop a peculiar interest (mild or deranged) i immediately go to tumblr because I know theres some freaks on here in the same exact boat. maybe even worse than me. damn

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

your eyes

dark apple seeds cradled in the groove below your brow,

hair sweetly mussed from the touch of my palms

grin curved scythe-like,

and i fall,

trembling fawn soft,

the spillage of my flesh as wine

into your arms

for if i am to be taken by any grim reaper,

there would be none

as loved as you

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

every few weeks, cameron gets annoyed at charlie for something unrelated and combs through his laundry to make sure he's not washing any of charlie's clothes. one time it got so bad that charlie wore the same shirt for a week straight. i don't think it's because he doesn't know how to do his own laundry, he just genuinely enjoys torturing his friends.

new chameron hc: charlie mixes his laundry with cameron’s so cameron can do it for him without knowing.

Spoiler alert: Cameron ALWAYS knows and has repeatedly told him not to do that

[dawnblade]

it begins

and the ultimate toddbloging begins

[toddbotblog]

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[jetaddict69]

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