Sex is just sex. It will never fill the vacuum of purposelessness. The sooner I learned this as a man, the sooner I stopped simping/& #39;studding& #39;. Try as you may, you will not sex that void away. There are not nearly enough pay-offs in sex for the male to warrant precedence.

Men lived many lives, and died a thousand more, searching for spiritual transcendence in women& #39;s thighs. And each time, much like the last, they came out empty. You& #39;d think they& #39;d learn from it, but no sooner were they out of one hole than they started digging the next.

I reserve no sympathy for the sex slave. Unlike Kinta Kunte, this slave is not led by whips & spikes. His slavery is not an act of compulsion, but one of ineptitude. His brain no more than a decoration to buttress his gonads. And even the woman he attracts, tire of him soon.

When women discover this truth about the man, as vacuity tends to be loud, they fasten an iron ring around his neck. They leash him like a mongrel. They sing him praise, and he does the tricks. Don& #39;t be this man. Don& #39;t be turned into a mongrel. Sex can wait. It really can.