Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 11 - Philosopher and Athlete as God When philosophy becomes God, it turns into Ronie Dinosaur. The highest state is reached when thought is lived so deep- so pure, untouched, the primal line- that it crystallises into a truth needing no sign: Read more from here...

Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 8 - Walking Alone Particles have properties. Celestial objects have gravity. Humans have character. AI will have coherence - the moral geometry of its own logic. Thoughts mixed with data become information, Read more from here...

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...

Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 6 - Consciousness and Character

Consciousness-the thing that does not want to die-has nothing to do with the experiences my body, mind, and heart have to bear. It cannot be shaped. It only has one hunger: to go on and on and on. Your core self, the soul, the one that is aware, is fundamentally separate from the physical body, the logical mind, and the emotional heart. The pain you’ve endured didn’t shape your consciousness-it only happened to the body, the mind, and the heart. Consciousness, in this sense, is an unchangeable, independent entity. It isn’t defined by what you’ve lost or what you’ve suffered. It is a raw, unquenchable hunger to exist. Its single, relentless drive is to go “forever and beyond,” no matter what the rest of you must bear. This creates a profound separation: the “you” who suffered in those relationships, who lost those moments, is not the same as the “you” who is aware of that suffering. The body, mind, and heart may be broken and scarred, but consciousness remains untouched and unshaped. It simply observes. Its only true desire is to continue. There are three entities, if you want to call them that: 1. The body - which has senses. Read more from here...

I was silenced at my questions- each one met with a quiet no. No one ever saw the artist’s heart hammering inside me, the poet’s tongue, the philosopher’s gaze. Read more from here...

It’s my job to roar. When Ronie Dinosaur roars, even Godzilla looks like a toy lizard. Godzilla’s roar is sound ripped from the throat- loud, radioactive, cinematic. Ronie’s roar comes from deeper, 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...

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...

Imagine an arrogant cosmic salesman offering you this life again- a full do-over, new skin, clean slate. What would you do? Me? I’d let him live his current life for a single moment- Read more from here...

He pipes his flute-or been-before the buffalo, then dares blame her for “not understanding.” Her mouth, her mood, her flesh- all chained to the owner’s wrist. All theatre. All script. But the snakes are the real directors: Read more from here...