salt of the earth

“They’re the salt of the earth, those girls. They don’t sit each night and compare notes on groups, criticising lyrics, asking if it’s valid. They just play the record… yeah, and maybe they dance. I love them. I love them dearly”

—	David Bowie

“I don’t want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.”

—

F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise  “I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know that there’s nothing but light when I see you.” — Shinji Moon “I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because ‘romantic’ doesn’t mean ‘sugary.’ It’s dark and tormented — the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can’t attain.” — Catherine Breillat This is a cool blurb I found on tumblr. I'm not especially religious, but I thought this was an interesting read: Sex and religion go together like peanut butter and mustard. In essence, they are often pitted against each other in a black and white battle of sin and purity to rival that of potter and voldermort himself. Saying the rosary and hooking up don’t exactly go together, I found this out the hard way amidst a cloud of guilt, self loathing and trepidation. To put it simply, I am a creature of kissing. Kissing in cars, on bridges, street corners (tre classy) and the occasional abandoned building. In a typical catch 22, teenage confusion moment, I am also a creature of religion. I came to a point in my seventeenth year when my spirituality and sexuality collided in an apocalyptic, internal battle for the history books. I had attended an art program and met a certain large-lobbed metal aficionado who was as different from me as about anyone I had ever met. While watching the shining with him one late night at the program, I discovered something eternally more frightening than jack nicholson’s demented grin; my sex drive.           Many religions advocate abstinence such as Islam, Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism and Buddhism. As a child I would go to worship, and was told tales of the purity of women. It seemed to me that the moral weight of the world lay between the woman’s legs. Even as a kid I believed that my faith’s location was on the surface of my naked skin. This was all fine and dandy until puberty hit me like a brick wall, I distinctly remember praying for forgiveness in the school bathroom because of my desire to kiss  a short, brown haired boy with a lisp… on the lips. Middle school seemed to be a breeding ground for sinful behavior. Girls with tight T-shirts and glossy lips, boys whispering genitalia jokes and drawing a certain male reproductive organ on their desks. I will admit I felt a moral superiority in my shapeless overalls and avoidance of suggestive pop-music. I openly advertised my aversion to kissing, hugs and sustained eye contact. I would make faces at the TV when watching couples kiss in rom-coms, step outside at dances when slow songs came one (typically something by lifehouse or lips of an angel). Although Mr.Lisp and I went our separate ways, I will always remember writing long journal entries about him in my fuzzy, cat-shaped notebook… and then proceeding to tear them up out of shame.         Highschool came, a cesspool of hormones, sexual tension and awkward hookups, but there I was, still blushing at sex jokes. As my faith began to wain, I became more adventurous. I had my first kiss with a boy who’s last name still remains a mystery, a feat which made me feel foolishly daring and mysterious. I went skinny dipping with a boy who went on to compete in extreme bar-tending competitions in london. I bought one hideously lacy, pink bra at a thrift store which i proceeded to hide under my bed. There was still a pang of guilt, but it seemed that my sexual contentment and my faith where inversely related. I Began to wonder if I could be confident in my body and sexual identity, while maintaining ties to my religion. -treesandempathy