it's all the same.

take something out of reach, and its charisma bubbles up out of nowhere, it suddenly transforms into something to be coveted, something to pine for and gloat once having. we with our taboos against alcohol and sex and the varigated urges of the human flesh, who then learn no compromise with our desires. rare the party that ends without someone passed out in the bathtub or at least clumsy sex behind some locked door. the examples shine brilliantly - look to europe, the ever end of pointed fingers. but in denmark we watched fullfrontal shower shots for shampoo commercials, lesbian porn on at three in the afternoon, and no one in the rumorful town i lived in knew anyone who had gotten pregnant in highschool, equivilant thereof, watched ten-year-olds buy vodka but at the bars only a few belligerents to spoil the fun. puritan roots dig deep, guilty pleasures as though pleasure should be hidden, stashed in the bottom drawer behind the socks and pulled out with a furtive glance to take in a stifledfrenzied rush, hurry to finish before the guilt sets in. i see no glory in ascetic simplicity at the cost of true, deepfelt enjoyment. taurus i may be, but i don't think salvation stems from denial.

nor gluttony, don't read me wrong. though in truth, i think them both merely two heads of the same hydra. we are not a culture well-versed in moderation.