The Individual Sum of the Collective Values of the Concept of Sexy

Do you do you know 

what really turns me on?


Irregular plurals









turns me on 

Is plurals like


or you know 

which one really gets me



It’s like the greater sum of the seemingly conceptually identical parts is way larger and sexier than the individual parts that make it up 


Than they could ever be each on its own


Kind of like humanity


Language, man 



So damn hot


what a fucking mistress.


The Grand Scheme Of The Little Things

The problem

Quite frankly is

When you want something

Is not in line with

When you need something

And that in itself 

Doesn’t go with

What you desire

Or if what you need

Goes against what you long for

Because those can sometimes




And the biggest problem

Is when you work hard

To earn the right 

To deserve something

That you 




Long for

Have to want

And want to need it

And after all that

It turns out

It’s right here


And you realize that

Having something 


Is exactly

The end of it all

Not A Totally Miserable Day

As an exercise in pseudo philosophy, consider the following: happiness and misery not being the polar opposites of one continuum, but rather, each operate and is gauged on a continuum all their own, respectively.

As such, happiness relies not in doing what excites you the most but rather in what bores you the least. 

And the greatest happiness of all, therefore, is if and when the two coincide. But then, having established that as the greatest place to be, it is , logically, all down hell from there.

So, the way I see it, the misery is just a manner of way, shape, or form, and thus all present. But that is far from depressing, contrary to what an initial reading of that might seem to reveal.

If in fact it is all miserable no matter what, having embraced the fact, one’s life then becomes released from all pressures to be “happy”. 

Now, that, is where real happiness relies.

Unless of course its 95 degrees out, rainy, humid, and miserable. Then we are back to square one.

Sorry, I thought this would go some place better. Which proves my point I guess.

Anyway, thankfully its nice out today. 

Another day not totally ruined. 

I’ll take it.

The Happy Riser And The Angry Insomniac 

 You know how


You go to bed early

And feel like you’ve slept for ages

And wake up

And find out it’s only 

Two hours later

And you know

The night is going to suck


And then 

There is that same type of experience

But it’s when you wake up 

two hours before 

The alarm is supposed to go off

And you go back to sleep

And every time you wake up again

It feels like 

You’ve slept for ages

But still ahead of schedule


Same type of 

Unconscious time compression

Very different impact


Life can be funny that way 


Amateur Hour At The Philosophy Club

The assumption always was

That I am a kind person

Because I knew how people felt

A lot of the time


But then I learned that 

I am very observant

So I knew how people felt

Because I could see it


So the assumption then became

That I am smart

Because the lack of


Is not particularly a virtue 


But, for a long time

I thought

I wans’t kind 

Because my ability to be 

Indifferent sometimes

Is staggering


So the assumption was then

That I’m a complicated person

Which in this case

Is code for




It’s hardly by choice

But you do see the dangers of 

Blaming society

To be a product of it

So here we shall move on

And continue assuming responsibility and making assumptions


The result of that 

Is that

Now the assumption is that I am 

A sensible person


However, I’d really like to be kind

And the question here becomes

Not whether or not

One can be kind

Or Unkind,


The question here becomes,

Can one be kind 

And unkind

Within the same exact person?


I’ll actually leave that to the 

Philosophers to ponder


I’d rather write poetry

Than try to assess my values

As a human being


Not like there is anything I can do 

About that anyway.

A Riddle

I write poetry but I’m not a poet

I studied architecture, but im not an architect

I ride a bicycle everywhere, but im not a cyclist

I was born and raised in Saudi Arabia, but im not “saudi”

Spent 1/3 of my life in america. But I’m zero percent american

I cook but not a chef

Nostalgic but not sentimental

Romantic but not relationship material

Curious but not interested

Human but not a person

Well balanced on a non existent scale

And on every other scale, I am way out of balance


Who am I?

I Think I Do

I want to say something

But I don’t know exactly what it


I feel it

I almost see it


I feel it even more


I want to say it

Because it’s true

But is truth absolute

Or can it be conditional

And if it can be conditional 

Then how can it be so when it is not so?


I don’t know

I wish I knew

I think I do

But I guess


I’ll never know

Or maybe I’ll do


I don’t want to say it any more

Does that change anything?