Be messy. Be hot. Be loud. Just don't be cold.

True lustiness requires vulnerability. It requires the terrifying act of saying, "I want you," without knowing if the feeling is returned. It requires the courage to be rejected while your blood is still hot. Most people would rather scroll in the lukewarm shallows than risk the burning deep.

We live in a world of binary thinking. You are either a stoic sage who has conquered their urges, or you are a hedonist lost at sea. But for those of us with high-octane inner lives—the ones who feel the gravitational pull of another person’s energy across a crowded room, who dream in technicolor, who touch the world like they mean it—there is a third option.

When you suppress a lusty soul, you don't kill the lust. You kill the soul. You end up with a perfectly polite person who feels absolutely nothing.

The opposite of a lusty soul is not a "good" person. The opposite is a numb person.

There is a specific kind of shame that accompanies a lusty soul.

We are the most sexually liberated and the most sexually lonely generation in history. We have access to every fantasy at our fingertips, yet we are starving for authentic heat.