Kris Kidd Quotes - Page 2

Two sad eyes and one skanky smile, I practically pulse with the promise of promiscuity. I'm easy to catch, but too slippery to hold onto. Men love a challenge if the prize is guaranteed. I know how to start a fight while deepthroating a white flag.

I need to move. I don’t fit in here. I almost tried a juice cleanse once, but quickly remembered that I could starve, and was starving, myself for free.

And, to be honest, if weed is a gateway drug, then I really did hop the fence, but sometimes I can’t help but miss the sticky-sweet warmth of a good old fashioned hot box.

Repression is dangerous. It makes anvils of memories and drops them from impossible heights when you least expect it.

I want to know exactly how many pieces of myself I had to give away before I became something else entirely.

I haven’t felt the full weightof the world on my shoulders,and I haven’t experienceda fraction of the painand embarrassment I’ve put out into this great bigwhite world.

I love like a beaten child and I trust like an addict.

There are never any real stars in LA, but we’ve got a bunch of fake ones made out of brass and terrazzo. We embed them in the sidewalks outside of strip clubs and gift shops— Walk of Fame, walk of shame… walk of names we’re all destined to forget sooner or later.

You burn bright and you burn hard, like a fire in a dumpster,and nobody is so worriedabout you burning as they are worried about the fire spreading.

Years from now, I will pass this same park, and I won’t remember any of this.Instead, I will feel something like a spark— a heat like Augustin a suburban town,and a desire to groweven when I know I’ll be cut down.

Drugs may know how to numb a brain, but the past never forgets to resurface.

We skip school and we ditch chores. We haunt shopping malls and grocery stores. House parties grow dull, but Amy's boyfriend is a dealer and we find ways to pass the time.

I think sometimes we gravitate toward broken people, not ’cause we want to fix them, but ’cause we want to fix ourselves. The line between selflessness and selfishness is thin and intangible. It’s imaginary. We can’t see it. People project their problems onto other people’s problems. It happens all the time. We see ourselves in each other. We can’t help it. It’s human nature.

I like people with weak will and bad taste.It feels like anything is possible.

And then he's somewhere inside of me, each thrust rattling my ribcage like a bottle of pills. I'm somewhere outside of myself, thinking about lust— about my slutty white sheets and all the men who like to hide in them.

In the soft light of morning, the sky outside turning light blue, my answer is always and still: “I’m fine.

I think it’s imperative that we continue confusing light with meaning. That’s how the human race evolves. Someone sees a light, names it God, goes toward it, goes up in flames. Same goes for moths. We’re all animals. There’s nothing revolutionary about evolution. The process itself relies solely on stupidity. We fuck up in the hopes that future fuckups will learn from us.

I’m a lot like you,and you’re a lot like me.It’s sad to say,and it’s sad to see.

You grow bored of these shrines, and you abandon thembecause you know for a fact that you will worshipanything you kneel before.Like God.Like cock.Like porcelain.

You give the shirt off your back, no questions asked, and you stand alone at the cavernous mouth of your suburban closet—your entire life spent wonderingwhere your clothes went.

If I told you that I imagine love to be a two-way mirror, which side of the mirror would you imagine me standing on?

And I guess at the end of the day, you’re just amazed that I can still stand, and I’m just amazed that I can stand still.

I dye my jeans jet black once a week, but they never seem dark enough. I bleach my hair bright white twice a month but it never seems light enough. I drink two and a half bottles of champagne every night but I never seem drunk enough. And I know I’m not high enough until someone grabs my face to check my vision to see if I’m still responsive— And even then, I’m thinking to myself that I should probably do one more line, you know, just to be safe.

They say you can’t build Rome in a day, but I’m pretty sure you could destroy it in even less.

My desperation is deliberate. Despondency's a pheromone.

See, that’s the thing about L.A.— When you’ve mastered the art of feeling lonely in a room full of people, that’s when you know.

I’ve memorized the best angles in the bathroom mirror from which to see how badly I’ve disintegrated. I truly do go from sixty to zero.