Kris Kidd Quotes

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.

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.

I just want to get away from me.

My slurred speech isn’t from one or nine drinks too many, it’s from my father.

You preach cleanliness,so I try to keep my room clean,but I feel no closer to God, and I guess that’s okaybecause he doesn’t knowwho he’s fucking with anyway.

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've come to realize that hunger feels more like home than any tangible structure ever has, or probably ever will. I know now that creating absence is my way of coping with absence.

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.

There’s a weight in the room now, a remembrance of childhood. It sinks like a stone, or a heart, or my weight on a good day.

My desire to self-destruct is a one-night standon Groundhog Day.Fucking repetitive. Repetitively fucking.

Every ghost has a story. Monsters are nothing without mythology.

My blood makes noise. And I’m saying this now, because I have a strange gut feeling that it will be silenced someday soon.

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?

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.