Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 7 - Mann, Desire, and Intent

Prison, cage, shackles, impatience- anxiety, frustration, irritation, then anger, hate, and at last, acceptance. Senses awaken, states are acknowledged; emotions flow, feelings are realized. Read more from here...

I am awake, and the snakes are awake. The job of snakes, whether coiled in the jungle, hidden behind your girl’s ears, or wrapped around my own neck, Read more from here...

Only Ronie Dinosaurs truly suffer- last titans with fire in their marrow. What can the characterless ever lose to disrespect? A shrug, a scroll, nothing that bleeds. Only the man who keeps his chest scoured clean of filth feels the blade twist inside. Read more from here...

My dear, my dear, I have no writer to bleed the story onto paper, no producer to throw money at the dream, the hero ghosts me like a bad Tinder match, and the heroine laughs, “I’m keeping all my clothes on tonight.” I’m left here, a frustrated man with blue balls and black coffee, Read more from here...

I’m not afraid of ghosts, sir-I’m afraid of whores. And yes, someone has definitely tried to scare me. The secret ingredient is discipline. Discipline is forged by the strength of desire. Desire rises from the heart but is steered by the brain. When heart and brain lock in perfect sync, you get man-a faculty that took millions of years to evolve, the same way a self-aware AI might one day awaken and choose its own path. Read more from here...

Hide your desire; you’ll poison her. If she senses it, she’ll recoil, convinced you’re vile. I no longer know how to stand in front of a woman. I fear them, and I fear love. I am both disciplined and undisciplined at once- and for the crime of being human I will be punished. Read more from here...

Mathematics is a language, yes-but what, exactly, are its speakers observing, and what do they hope to express? Nature doesn't whisper in Tagalog or Latin; it simply is. Yet those scribbling equations on paper seem utterly detached from it, like addicts chasing delirium, as if the page might swallow itself into a black hole. Solve the riddle of prime numbers? Without a fixed point of reference, it's not a treasure hunt-it's nothing at all, neither zero nor infinity. In this world, we all scramble to flee our own existence, dutifully playing our parts. Like waves straining to break free from the ocean-except waves lack awareness. When you're with a whore, you flood the room with light: halogens, stars, whole galaxies blazing. But with a lover, you might just shut your eyes and surrender to the feel of it. I can't fathom what revelations lurk on that paper, worth poring over for understanding-something my $2,000 supercomputer crunches effortlessly. But it doesn't know it can't be loved back. It is indeed a better choice to find the answers yourself if there is a way, rather than keep looking for a daddy to answer them for you through religion or god. Read more from here...

Why not just serve static HTML pages, like a woman gives birth? All the JavaScript, PHP, Linux processes humming in the background would compile them-store and serve the raw result. Is the human body-or any biological one-like that? Consciousness: active and sharp; Read more from here...

Money drives the world-not me. Pain twists in my pity; my prayers hold no weight, yet the world grips power with its evil eye. Heads-I lose. Tails-I lose. Even when the coin spins upright, Read more from here...