Ronie Dinosaur

Women don’t respect me. They have the old cattle instinct: they wait for the shepherd’s crook, the clear fence, the decisive voice that says “this way, not that.” I arrive without a staff. Read more from here...

Living without you has been difficult. I keep thinking we could be friends once again. Just as the labourer’s hands grow calloused from honest toil, the cobbler’s fingers learn the secret language of leather and thread, and the student’s mind bends toward mastery through endless repetition- so the whore perfects a craft that looks like desire Read more from here...

I’ve studied enough philosophy to understand the old promise: a man and a woman, once married, become each other’s mirror and witness- each the living proof that the other is not insane, not alone, not condemned to solipsism. I sometimes wonder what kind of people they were whose love was truly met with love; Read more from here...

At the age of forty-two, the proof was always here, and the verdict is in-signed and sealed. Evidence: caught red-handed at 1:30 a.m., 5 December 2025, Read more from here...

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...