Alphareader - Danielle Binks

alphareader - Danielle Binks

More Posts from Alphareader and Others

13 years ago

Boy you really missed the boat. I'll make it simple, so's even fuckin you can understand. Papa God growed us up till we could wear long pants; then he licensed his name to dollar bills, left some car keys on the table, and got the fuck outta town". Water rushes to his eye-holes. "Don’t be lookin up at no sky for help. Look down here, at us twisted dreamers". He takes hold of my shoulders, spins me around, and punches me towards the mirror on the wall. "You're the God. Take responsibility. Exercise your power

'Vernon God Little' by DBC Pierre


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13 years ago

I guess love's kind of like a marshmallow in a microwave on high. After it explodes it's still a marshmallow. But, you know, now it's a complicated marshmallow.

'Graffiti Moon' by Cath Crowley


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12 years ago

Always learn poems by heart. They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like fluoride in the water, they'll make your soul impervious to the world's soft decay.

'White Oleander' by Janet Fitch 


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11 years ago

“I am haunted by humans.”

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak


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12 years ago

All those people who are chained here thinking that their reputations matter and this little shit matters are so freaking shortsighted. Dude, what matters is that you're happy. What matters is your future. What matters is that we get out of here in one piece. What matters is finding the truth of our own lives, not caring about what other people think is the truth of us.

'Ask The Passengers' by A.S. King


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9 years ago
‘Perfect Strom’ By T. Hanuka For The New Yorker, Feb 2014 

‘Perfect Strom’ by T. Hanuka for The New Yorker, Feb 2014 


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13 years ago

We would have babies and get fat and quit drinking and not spend every waking moment together. We would turn up to events for which we had accepted invitations without texting absurd excuses. We had grown up. It was an essential part of letting go, deciding which ribbons of the past we wanted to tie around our fingers and which were best left on the maypole. I could weep for the unfairness of it all now. For the necessity in closing the door on the travelling salesman of youth. I could weep with such fondness for us all.

- 'You'll Be Sorry When I'm Dead' by Marieke Hardy 


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alphareader - Danielle Binks
Danielle Binks

"Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth." 

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