Kris Kidd Quotes

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

Kris Kidd

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

Kris Kidd

#3. I drink Coke-zero while I score coke from an honors student in Huntington Beach.

Kris Kidd

#4. ...stars are dying all the time. Some explode. Some collapse and cave in on themselves. Those ones become black holes. Others get sucked up inside of them just for getting too close. Guilty by association. Prosecuted for proximity.

Kris Kidd

#5. You grow bored of these shrines, and you abandon them
because you know for a fact that you will worship
anything you kneel before.
Like God.
Like cock.
Like porcelain.

Kris Kidd

#6. 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.

Kris Kidd

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

Kris Kidd

#8. You were trying to find a way to get rid of yourself,
but you were still left with your mouth.

Kris Kidd

#9. There's stranger sex than sex with strangers.

Kris Kidd

#10. You are only as deep
as the ashtrays you use. You only stick around because you like the abuse.

Kris Kidd

#11. A bag of bones can slip through small cracks in a crowd effortlessly.

Kris Kidd

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

Kris Kidd

#13. In Los Angeles, everything is 100% organic, except the people.

Kris Kidd

#14. It's 2009, a Thursday night in September, and I've stopped looking for stars in the Los Angeles sky. I settle instead for the ones I see in my head when I go three or four days without eating. Same difference.

Kris Kidd

#15. The game is getting old, and I don't know if it's because I've mastered the art of it, or if I just have some weird attention-deficit-disorder when it comes to getting my way all the time, every time.

Kris Kidd

#16. This is a view that reminds you of you.
This is a metaphor you had nothing to do with.

Kris Kidd

#17. Sprawled out on the photographer's mattress with my clothes lying in a heap somewhere in the kitchen, I pull the waistband of my briefs down to expose my hipbones, and I think of home.

Kris Kidd

#18. 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 August
in a suburban town,
and a desire to grow
even when I know I'll be cut down.

Kris Kidd

#19. Dead Prez is playing on the car's stereo, telling me that it's bigger than Hip-Hop, but I beg to differ.

Kris Kidd

#20. You ask yourself when you'll learn, and the answer is always,
"Tomorrow.

Kris Kidd

#21. 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.

Kris Kidd

#22. In Los Angeles, everything is 100 percent organic, except the people.

Kris Kidd

#23. My fingers are blistered and they smell like lighter fluid - like burnt tin foil and rusted silverware. Quick question: Is it still considered heroin chic if I'm actually using heroin? No? Whatever.

Kris Kidd

#24. It isn't easy," is easy to say and sometimes I think that the only thing we can do
is say really easy things to each other.

Kris Kidd

#25. I want to remember what we were like before we became ourselves.

Kris Kidd

#26. 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.

Kris Kidd

#27. Sunrise is starting to feel like a guilt trip.

Kris Kidd

#28. The piece of you that loves a part of me tries its best to hold onto the rest,
but my heart is a thousand-piece puzzle of a faraway galaxy, deep purple,
colors blending together and impossible to place.

Kris Kidd

#29. I think of drug dealers like I think of my father - never really there when you want them to be.

Kris Kidd

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

Kris Kidd

#31. I am the cause of the energy crisis.

Kris Kidd

#32. The homeless dudes on Alameda all have legs any runway model would kill for, and sometimes I think of giving them money, but - I don't know, I've got bills to not pay, and drinks to make people buy for me.

Kris Kidd

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

Kris Kidd

#34. Apathetic in my adolescence,
my heart is fluorescent. It flickers
like liquor store lights in the ghetto.

Kris Kidd

#35. Los Angeles has no seasons, so it's kind of hard to keep track of time here. The lines between spring, summer, fall, and winter all blur like my vision. I get stuck on repeat for different measures of eternity.

Kris Kidd

#36. I talk too much, but there's a lot unsaid. I've slept in a lot of beds.

Kris Kidd

#37. And confessions of love have always seemed out of place when you're gasping for air, when you're begging for pain,
when you're missing something, unable to change the channel.

Kris Kidd

#38. My desire to self-destruct is a one-night stand
on Groundhog Day.
Fucking repetitive. Repetitively fucking.

Kris Kidd

#39. Mac, Phase: everyone here is of the we-don't-use-real-names-here mentality, so most of the time I feel like a really pilled up Snow White rolling around in the hood with seven drug-dealing dwarves - which, I don't know ... these things are never really as fun as they sound like they'd be.

Kris Kidd

#40. 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.

Kris Kidd

#41. I haven't felt the full weight
of the world on my shoulders,
and I haven't experienced
a fraction of the pain
and embarrassment I've put out into this great big
white world.

Kris Kidd

#42. My nose bleeds, and every comedown feels like an overdose. I try to make peace with God each time, but he shows no interest, and it reminds me of my dad, and I get so upset that I just have to do another line. Like I said, a cycle.

Kris Kidd

#43. I gave them everything I had, and I guess it feels
alright.
I gave them my body,
and they use it every night.

Kris Kidd

#44. 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 wondering
where your clothes went.

Kris Kidd

#45. 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.

Kris Kidd

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

Kris Kidd

#47. I have this working theory that the main cause of traffic after a car accident is rarely the accident itself. I think people just slow down to get a closer look at the wreckage.

Kris Kidd

#48. The idyllic mayhem of two cultures colliding just doesn't seem as funny anymore.

Kris Kidd

#49. You preach cleanliness,
so I try to keep my room clean,
but I feel no closer to God, and I guess that's okay
because he doesn't know
who he's fucking with anyway.

Kris Kidd