Cocaine and Repo @cocaineandrepo - Tumblr Blog

Back with more shit

For all the time Shin tried to imitate Sou Hiyori, he could never truly become his old friend, even at his darkest moment. The reason for this can be traced back to a key difference. Sou loves to see a girlboss winning while Shin can’t stand girlbosses.

pageofscribbles

a grave of your own making

r3nton

cocaineandrepo

Catch me going ape and decking senior citizens in the Styx pit

cocaineandrepo

Hhhhh the Styx concert got cancelled

soushin

Not sure if there’s any other SouShin shippers on here but new blog just for SouShin!

cocaineandrepo

“Honesty and Introspection; Narrative, Parody, and Duality”

It’s not what I know of you

That fuels my...

(Obsession?

Compulsion?

Need to know everything?

To control everything?

To get the upper hand

On the one

Who had the upper hand

On me?)

It’s the fact

That I was just starting

To fill in the picture of you,

Painting by numbers

Clandestinely

Archiving the subtext

Behind your over-structured dialogue

And your ever-unchanging expression,

You somehow became

More unknowable

The more

I came to know you.

I know

That people “like you”

Do this

To create distance

Confusion

To remain unknowable

I have done the same.

However,

It’s the fact, that,

Despite my cognizant counter efforts,

You managed to discolate my jaw

And prop my mouth open

While you poured that awful liquid

Down my throat.

Twisting my breasts until my nipples bled

And after I swallowed

You threw me out of your car

You threw my jacket on top of me

And sped off onto the highway

Leaving my gaping lips

To collect rainwater

I lay there

For three hours

The saccharine aftertaste assaulting my tongue

Opening, closing my lips,

Extending my tongue

To taste the rain;

Waiting

For some final moment

To happen;

For some light

To manifest

And signify

It was all over

The light never came

Eventually,

I sit up

I shove my fingers down my throat

And let the rain

Wash the vomit into the sewers,

The evidence dissipating as quickly as it had arrived

Who would believe me?

I call a taxi

And return home

Before my roommate does.

He enters at 3:15AM

Showers,

And envelopes himself In his comforter,

Looking at his phone for a while

Then abandoning it

And falling asleep.

As he snores

I remain paralyzed in my bed,

Facing the wall,

Perfectly still.

I wonder

If my roommate

Has noticed.

I wonder

If the chemicals

Have been purged from my body completely

I don’t know if I will wake up tomorrow.

I do.

And

I wake up

Full

Tar.

My goals,

My motivations,

My passions,

Have been completely replaced

With the quest to uncover all your secrets

To see you

In your raw form

To comprehend

The exact form of ugliness

You have been all along.

You block my number

When you realize I’ve survived.

You delete me from all media

As if you never knew me

At all.

And who could prove you otherwise?

You’re smart

Im smart

Thus begins

A mutual struggle

For understanding

Who

Each

Other

Are.

I can’t prove it

You may or may not know this.

But please know

That I am the last girl

You will ever

This

To.

The police sirens are a method of communication

Even when I lived

Almost a mile from here

You joked about the ubiquity of police sirens.

Sometimes it’s crime.

Once a pawn shop robbery,

Once it was the harassment of a young college girl.

I live up the hill

From a massive intersection.

I hear

The crunch of metal

The scream of the impact

Almost nightly

When someone cannot see the new lane divisions

And merges too quickly.

Sometimes, often into another car.

Always followed by sirens.

Three semesters ago

A man overdosed in my neighborhood.

I thought he was simply high

Off a fresh dose of heroin.

(So insidious in this city)

Maybe he found it comfortable

To lay his head on the rocks

I shove my fingers under his nose

And I feel nothing.

I run to my apartment

And call 911

“There is a man unconscious on my street

He probably needs immediate medical attention

I couldn’t sense him breathing “

I hide behind my blinds.

I refuse to be the hero.

At the same time, I am also completely spineless.

I watch

Clandestinely

As they cover the man in a white sheet

And roll him into the ambulance

Somewhat different sirens

Than I’m used to.

This isn’t a college town.

This is the poorest city in Connecticut.

This is rich college kids

Living on a hill

Adorned with dogwoods and cherry blossoms

While only a mile away

People are shooting up

In the Oak Grove Cemetery

They are well aware of the irony.

They are smart people, mostly,

Just with particular tastes.

I graduate college in one week

And I’m a godDAMN mess.

I can’t even remember my junior year.

They tell me to be proud.

I feel more like the people on the city green

Who didn’t expect to wake up

But kind of wanna push their luck.

Sometimes, I think I’m only here because of the luck.

Okay I love how u can change one letter in a post and it completely changes:

WE ARE SYMONE STANS FIRST AND HUMANS SECOND!!

“Your cast fits me quite comfortably”

Your personality

Is quite comfortable.

The smug shyness

The unflappable sureness

How your simplicity

Cast a thread to me

Drawing me in, a fish on your line

Paralyzed yet squirming.

Being you is nice. I see why you do it.

Your disguise

Fits me beautifully

Near perfectly

A costume

That Parodies

Yours?

I feel disfigured

And beautiful

By your design

You starve me.

You know what you’re doing.

You dangle the steak

In front of my twitching nose

And rip it away from my gnashing teeth.

You know

Your prey.

Many people own the make and model car you drive.

I know the statistics

But I don’t even

try to deny

The fact

That only you

Own that Connecticut license plate.

Let’s be honest

What are the odds

That a random stranger

With the same make and model of your car,

The same lisence plate

Has parked outside

My apartment complex

At midnight.

I’d love to ask you what the fuck you think you’re doing.

I’m afraid of what you’d do to me

If I unlocked my doors.

You’d be gone before police arrived.

You’d make me look crazy.

I already look crazy.

I say I don’t care

But crazy people

Cant obtain much of a future.

I desperately grasp at any semblance of my future.

Thus, I cannot appear crazy.

Sometimes

I think

It’d be better

If you

Simply

Killed

Me.

Killing me isn’t your string suit.

You’ve already failed once.

x-w1ng

we are simone stans first and human beings second!!

cocaineandrepo

This but extra bc it’s trans day of visibility

My brain says that dangerous and I need to know it all

My heart says he’s amazing and and the drugs tell me to call

My gut says something’s very wrong, my feet tell me to run

The electric shocks inside my hands just want to have some fun

Somewhere behind my naval I just want to understand

My soul just wants the story, wants an answer, wants a friend

My sneer thinks it’s poetic that I did this to myself

My memories won’t stop replaying putting me through hell

Adrenaline when I look back, my body wants to panic

My fight or flight is telling me to stop him and it’s frantic

The dopamine comes only when I justify my rage

My muscles somehow weighed down with the burden of the shame

My stomach is all twisted, want to purge him from my body

I’m already exhausted cause there’s no chance that it’s stopping

My jaw still feels off kilter and I know that I’m still angry

But I’m hardly on my knees because I think that this will save me

“Honesty and Introspection; Narrative, Parody, and Duality”

It’s not what I know of you

That fuels my...

(Obsession?

Compulsion?

Need to know everything?

To control everything?

To get the upper hand

On the one

Who had the upper hand

On me?)

It’s the fact

That I was just starting

To fill in the picture of you,

Painting by numbers

Clandestinely

Archiving the subtext

Behind your over-structured dialogue

And your ever-unchanging expression,

You somehow became

More unknowable

The more

I came to know you.

I know

That people “like you”

Do this

To create distance

Confusion

To remain unknowable

I have done the same.

However,

It’s the fact, that,

Despite my cognizant counter efforts,

You managed to discolate my jaw

And prop my mouth open

While you poured that awful liquid

Down my throat.

Twisting my breasts until my nipples bled

And after I swallowed

You threw me out of your car

You threw my jacket on top of me

And sped off onto the highway

Leaving my gaping lips

To collect rainwater

I lay there

For three hours

The saccharine aftertaste assaulting my tongue

Opening, closing my lips,

Extending my tongue

To taste the rain;

Waiting

For some final moment

To happen;

For some light

To manifest

And signify

It was all over

The light never came

Eventually,

I sit up

I shove my fingers down my throat

And let the rain

Wash the vomit into the sewers,

The evidence dissipating as quickly as it had arrived

Who would believe me?

I call a taxi

And return home

Before my roommate does.

He enters at 3:15AM

Showers,

And envelopes himself In his comforter,

Looking at his phone for a while

Then abandoning it

And falling asleep.

As he snores

I remain paralyzed in my bed,

Facing the wall,

Perfectly still.

I wonder

If my roommate

Has noticed.

I wonder

If the chemicals

Have been purged from my body completely

I don’t know if I will wake up tomorrow.

I do.

And

I wake up

Full

Tar.

My goals,

My motivations,

My passions,

Have been completely replaced

With the quest to uncover all your secrets

To see you

In your raw form

To comprehend

The exact form of ugliness

You have been all along.

You block my number

When you realize I’ve survived.

You delete me from all media

As if you never knew me

At all.

And who could prove you otherwise?

You’re smart

Im smart

Thus begins

A mutual struggle

For understanding

Who

Each

Other

Are.

I can’t prove it

You may or may not know this.

But please know

That I am the last girl

You will ever

This

To.

You go home

To your loving family

(Believe me, I know

Rumors come back to me-

Your parents are loving

Your sister is kind

Your home is happy

...

Environment is not the explanation

As to who you are

And what you do)

And at the same time

I return home

To an absent minded father

And an abusuve mother

And the narritive I receive

Follows as such:

“You aren’t cute enough

To be [redacted]”

Cute has nothing to do with it.

My experiences

Have everything

To do with

The fact that

I play the part

Of a naieve, weak girl

One who

(Admittedly, accurately)

Would never contact the police.

One who swears revenge

But never acquired the means

To follow through.

I’m weak, yes.

I can admit this now,

Without using it

To excuse my cowardice.

I just ‘am’

You just ‘are’

You can never erase the link between us

But for you

It may suffice

To simply

Forget

You ever

Met

Me.

I’m sure it helps you sleep t night.

It’s been almost two years now. Allow me to reflect-

You still occupy

Some portion of my mind

Every

Single

Day

The evidence

Washed off

My skin

By my own, willing hands.

My friends believe me

(Or do they?)

Ive lied so much

To those I should have trusted

Id understand

If they have no basis

To find my stories fact.

Sometimes

I’m not sure

Exactly what is true;

I know the narritive

By heart

Yet

I’ve tailored the truth

To the tastes

Of every person present

During my

Collapse.

I’m not a victim.

I’m not a predator.

I’m... a bystander?

To my own destruction?

Your home looks

So warm.

Your dreams delayed a bit by a worldwide crisis.

How do you feel

So safe

So protected

Just paces away

From where

You left

Die

cocaineandrepo

Invitiation-1

Hey, my 6:00 class is cancelled today, wanna hang out later?

-Sounds fine, I get out of work at 5. I’ll take a shower and text you a little before I come over

Cool! if it’s warm enough, do you wanna take a drive down to the beach?

-I’ll keep the roof down in the Beemer if its nice out.

Hell yeah! drive fast and let the wind mess my hair up beyond repair

-You asked for it ;)

Well, looking forward to seeing ya and eating all your cheez-its

-Nuh uh. Cheez-its aren’t free. Not even for pretty girls.

oOoOoOoOo you think i’m pretty?

-The distinction is moot, you’re paying 10 cents per cheez -it either way

cocaineandrepo

I paid so much more

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