Ronie Dinosaur

In a world where my heart keeps thirsting for love, how the hell am I supposed to understand it? When I go looking for beauty, all I really want is one woman to love me. When I hunt truth, all I really want is to be famous for this grief. When I ask, “Who am I?”, I swell into Ronie Dinosaur-just so I have something to fight with. And still I keep searching for the one mirror Read more from here...

He ran carrying the corpse of Sati on his shoulder, asking the sky, “What is this weight? Why me?” I run with empty fists clenched so tightly the knuckles bleed, daring the same sky: “Look me in the eye. Stop whining. Stop cheating. Fight fair.” My arms are not open in surrender; Read more from here...

May their God bless these women, the ones who take money and let you fuck them in the ass. Because of them humanity breathes another day. Otherwise idiots like me would simply die of hunger and thirst. I am not found in any temple. Where would Ronie Dinosaur be right now- Read more from here...

Losing every battle, one by one, Ronie Dinosaur arrived- scarred, stripped bare, still standing. I no longer know where the winners went, or whether they ever existed. Even cattle need a shepherd. 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...

A single man knows a widow’s heart. A whore’s broker reads another broker’s eyes. Her withered character, her torn pussy- she believes both can be patched with the same cheap tape a child slaps onto a broken kite Read more from here...

You reach what’s truly inside a heart by his desire- its heat, its honesty. You weigh the desire by the purity of its intent. You test the intent Read more from here...

This is the age of whores, sir. Ram’s face is dark not pale in Kaliyug. The swan-once elegance itself-roots in filth, the cunning crow feasts on golden thrones. A cheap woman will knot a man of character, laugh while she milks him dry, Read more from here...