Ecclesiastes 2: Sex parties suck

So, Solomon continued, since wisdom blew, I decided to drown my sorrows in pleasure. Since I have all the money that anyone could ask for, I had made slaves buy the best food and cook the most delicious meals. I drank the best wines. I hired the best comedians, actors and singers. I stocked my harem full of the most delectable concubines and I kept plenty of hot slaves of both sexes who I would order to fuck in front of me when I just wanted to watch.  I mean, I had every pleasure money could buy. But did any of it make me happy?

I was still bored and depressed. Hedonism is just meaningless. I was still going to die. And so were all my hot slaves. They would just grow old and gross and die, probably riddled with STDs since condoms and antibiotics haven’t been invented yet. So I went back to being studious and wise. But that still sucked. I mean, it was better than dissipation, but it was still meaningless.

I mean, I’m so freaking depressed. Why am I alive? Why is anyone? Why do we all struggle and toil every. single. day? Pleasure is meaningless. Work is meaningless. Wealth and wisdom are meaningless. Ugh.

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