Slut is a Dirty Word. Slut is a Deity.

Image by Rattlsnake

Image by Rattlsnake

In recent centuries the organic nature of our sexuality has been condemned.

We have been plagued and perverted by epidemic proportions of sexual dysmorphia.

A war waged against our very life force and fought on the front lines of our own soil,
a soul civil war.

We have had our hearts raped and anesthetized, violated and disconnected from our sex.

So our sex becomes a dirty thing.

We become dirty things.

Sluts have been stoned and shamed and cast out, excommunicated for their god given sexuality.

Every attempt has been made to repress the powerful phenomenon of female sexual energy.

Armies have been deployed to seal her legs shut,
to gag her mouth that spills truth and temptation,
to defile her pureness and replace it with cruelty.

Every effort has been made to castrate men from the true spirituality of their sex.

Arrows and bullets shot into their hearts, laced with the vile conditioning of porn and mass media.

Turning her sacredness into dead flesh, into an object to fetishise and covet.

Misleading mens minds into darkness so that all they can offer women is raging furious want, or apologetic ejaculation.

She is left to use her objectified vessel to manipulate & coerce, suspicious, traumatized & hurt.

The holy power of our sexuality has been feared,
it has been caged, degraded, medicated, distorted,
raped viciously until it submits to an agenda of consumerism and control.

Operated on in the operating theatres of culture, under the knife of religion.
Mutilating ourselves until we are unrecognisable to our own souls.

We deprive our most sacred humanness, we criminalise our most natural selves.

We have glorified the deity of virginity and placed wedding bands as chastity belts around her freedom, expression and pleasure.

We have tightened the bolts on the hips of the sexual woman.
Wrenched her voluptuousness into restriction.
Lest she sway with sensuality.

Lest she resemble herself.

and we have rendered men as beasts,

hollow hearted, hungry for love and connection, starved.
Villianised they reek of guilt, shame, sorrow and frustration.
Under pressure and under loved.

… and there are men that take what isn’t theirs and disrespect what is theirs to hold
and at the end of the day they eat from the same hands that have stained so many womens skins and are praised for their conquests,
like the blood he has just devoured, bought from the hands of another hunter.

 

Polarised the west think freedom is hyper sexuality, orgies and nudity and machines that fuck us and kink novelty.

Extremist equations in which gross and overt equals liberation and evolution.

Yet we only seem in more craving and emptiness, a gaping dissatisfaction, gnawing at our insides like blind hunger, soul starved.

Until we come to stitch back together the veins between our groins and our hearts -
Until we begin the vulnerable journey to intimacy,
to detoxify our sexuality,
to reinstall the sacred and holy humanness of our sex -

We will remain as that.. shamed sluts and emasculated men, hungry and hollowed out, used and abusive,
bowing at the feet of porn stars or virgins, gurus or vibrators,

lost at sea without the guidance of our precious life force and heart centered sexuality.

Subscribe to my email list for more content & to be notified of when registration of my upcoming online course goes live.

© Copyright 2017 ~ ALANA LOUISE MAY All Rights Reserved

Image by rattlsnake