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Ronie Dinosaur

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ABOUT THE POEM: Ronie Dinosaur - Chapter 124: “Where Are You?” is a culmination chapter, not an incident chapter. It does not describe a single heartbreak but the slow sedimentation of many years of emotional deprivation, moral misrecognition, and social misuse. The speaker is not merely lonely; he is stranded inside a system that rewards appetite, cleverness, and ambiguity while punishing restraint, sincerity, and directness. The recurring metaphor of thirst establishes the core condition: prolonged deprivation rather than sudden loss. This is important. Thirst implies survival without fulfillment, endurance without nourishment. The narrator stands “in the river of lovers and never got wet,” a line that captures social proximity without emotional access. Love is happening all around him, visibly and audibly, yet remains structurally unavailable to him. The schoolboy and college episodes reveal a repeated pattern of misinterpretation. From an early age, the narrator’s gaze is assumed to be predatory, his interest reduced to flesh, even when his attention is aesthetic, emotional, or restrained. This misreading hardens into identity. By college, he is no longer merely misunderstood; he is turned into a joke. The label “just friends” becomes a mechanism of extraction-attention, loyalty, availability-without commitment or responsibility. The woman described is not portrayed as a villain in a simplistic sense. She is a functionary of the system the chapter critiques. Her behavior-touching, teasing, blocking, withholding-creates a zone of deniable intimacy. When the narrator seeks clarity and commitment, she retroactively reframes the situation to protect herself and discredit him. This inversion is the emotional core of the chapter: restraint is rebranded as inadequacy, dignity as weakness, sincerity as incompetence. The line “They measured love in grabs; I measured it in restraint” marks the ethical axis of the text. Love, in this world, is assessed through physical assertiveness and social daring. The narrator’s refusal to transgress boundaries does not elevate him; it erases him. Over time, this produces dissociation-described as consciousness leaving the body, the self becoming a shadow to its own flesh. The later sections widen the scope from personal grievance to cultural indictment. Relationships are framed as transactions, governed by profit, ego, and leverage. Blood, promise, sin, and virtue lose meaning. What remains is the merchant’s scale. The anvil image intensifies this critique, transforming emotional harm into a ritualized act of destruction and mockery. The final image-the empty chair with the best view of the world-closes the chapter with quiet devastation. It suggests not only absence but permanence. The question “Where are you?” is no longer addressed to a specific person. It is directed at the possibility of a human presence capable of meeting sincerity with sincerity.

Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 124 – Where Are You?

I have spent my whole life in thirst.
Where did everyone go?
Why did no one come to me?

She did everything with everyone else,
yet never even glanced my way.
I was standing right there.
I was right there while the whole world was falling in love.
I stood in the river of lovers and never got wet.

The world was arriving from somewhere and going somewhere else.
I was stuck on one single question:
why has no one ever loved me back?

Someone insulted the schoolboy,
assuming he only wanted flesh.
He never looked beyond the eyelashes and the beautiful eyes,
the spark and the flash.

Someone in college turned the boy they named Ronie into a joke.
She played with him and demanded returns
under the label “just friends.”

I acted with dignity-for her sake and for mine,
for my so-called lovely friend.
She thought I couldn’t handle a sexy girl
who wanted to be treated gently in my lap,
yet she wouldn’t dare move past it
if it was only lust,
or only friendship,
or even love.

She was the one who blocked my way, teased me,
kept a seat for me in class, held my hand, and slapped my ass,
yet she refused to move beyond it herself
and blamed me for not taking the hint.

When I asked her to be my girlfriend,
I wanted her close to me-
not because I was after her body.

My heart watched them question my intent
and hand love over to corruption.
My character was tested until
I had to stop loving altogether
and let them call me cheap and walk away-
even though I was not cheap.

They measured love in grabs;
I measured it in restraint.

I crashed so hard,
like consciousness leaving my body.
It became a shadow to my own flesh.

I have lived in darkness for decades,
without a hand to hold,
without an eye to truly see me.

They came, they took what they wanted,
and left the man behind.

I have no pet, no hope, no prayer,
no dream, no regret.
I never had the experience,
nor any other choice.

I keep thinking this:
why do they offer respect without real intent
and call it love,
then withdraw that shallow, fake love
and replace it with disrespect
just because I am not clever?

I stood at the feast with clean hands
and left hungry.

This may sound like a weak man speaking.
But a weak man can beg, borrow, bargain, or steal.
I stand empty-handed
because I did none of those things.

I have no god, no friend, no support
to hold me when my spine starts to bend.

They only have relations built on greed and ego.
No blood is blood,
no promise a promise,
no sin, no virtue, no intent-
only profit and the merchant’s scale.

First she broke my heart,
then laid the pieces on the anvil,
hammered them into powder and dust.
Bam! Bam! Bam!

She grabbed a fistful,
held it at my eye level,
blew gently, and said:
“Look, son-of-a-bitch sweetheart-
that’s how it’s done.”

The empty chair beside me
has the best view of the world.

Where are you?

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