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How can I explain purposely setting foot on a path so blatantly treacherous? Was the fun in the fall?

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Feet
Purposely
Path
Crank
Fall
Treacherous
Settings
Foot
Explain
Setting
Fun
Blatantly

More quotes by Ellen Hopkins

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Christmas is far and away my favorite holiday. I love everything about it, from the event that inspired it, hoping for a white one, to wrapping presents. But mostly I love having family and friends gathered, and sharing traditions.
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Do you ever dangle your toes over the precipice, dare the cliff to crumble, defy the frozen deity to suffer the sun, thaw feather and bone, take wing to fly you home?
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Love is Chocolate The unprocessed kind. Dark. Bitter. But always with the promise of sweet perfection. All it takes is sugar- that certain someone's kiss, flavored with possibility. If Dani has taught me anything, it's that life is brimming with possibilities. Every single day brings choices.
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Your hurt swallows ine, like space swallows time, and the two intertwine. We tangle together.
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Memory is a tenuous thing, like a rainbow's end or a camera with a failing lens.
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I tattered their wings and tore off their legs, joint by joint, watched them crawl in circles, like little lost infants, untill they decide to die.
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Don't make me laugh, I'd much rather cry.
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Just keep on shining that light. The rest will take care of itself.
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I hate this feeling. Like I'm here, but I'm not. Like someone cares. But they don't. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.
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And almost instantly, Daddy made everything seem just fine. Even when it wasn't.
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When the door to love opens, The window to control closes.
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I don't love him, & he definitely doesn't love me. Still, he semi-fills a gaping black hole inside me. That place wants love, maybe even needs love, but love is something Im pretty sure doesn't exist.
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Believe it or not, I sold my first novel, Crank, with only seventy-five pages complete. It was in verse then, and it was hard-hitting then.
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I'll Stay ...leave ...me. ...I'll ...follow ...you.
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Something stirred beneath my skin, some being inside I'd only suspected existed, demon or angel, I couldn't say.
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It's just so hard to feel good, you know? I do know. And more than that, it's just so incredibly hard to feel. (54)
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The problem with being grounded is it gives you a whole lot of unavoidable time to think. NOt even pulling weeds can take away your ability to plot all the varied and wonderful things you might do to get even, or at least to make up, just get a smidgen for time lost to TV and yard work and house cleaning.
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When you've only got one little shimmer of sunshine, you capture it best you can.
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Always before, I just said no, left it solidly there. I waver now. I want to share everything with him. Want to know what he knows, feel what he feels, share the same space he's in.
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empty and closed, hovering in some frozen netherworld neither sun nor rain could thaw.
Ellen Hopkins