So Then After Sex, Then What? — a meditation on The Moment After

 

By: Isaac Christopher Lubogo

 

This sacred truth invites us into the hollow echo that follows the thunderclap of human desire fulfilled. Here, we are not merely dissecting an act; we are confronting the existential aftermath of indulgence, and questioning the true cost of pleasure when stripped of its social perfumes and biological delusions.

 

I. The Premise of “The Moment After”

 

Sex, when removed from the lofty veils of intimacy, reproduction, or romanticism, is—at its most primal—a climax of urges; a climax that, like all climaxes, is followed by silence, stillness, and oftentimes, sadness. This is what philosophers call “the post-coital tristesse”—the sadness that follows orgasm. A paradox: the peak of pleasure gives way to a valley of introspection.

 

Arthur Schopenhauer, the great pessimist, wrote:

“Directly after copulation the devil’s laughter is heard.”

 

In this striking phrase, Schopenhauer pierces the veil of illusion. What seemed like bliss was perhaps nothing more than nature’s way of perpetuating the species through manipulation of consciousness. The laughter, then, is that of fate mocking man’s belief that he was in control.

 

II. Energy and the Economics of the Soul

 

Let us not speak of lust in isolation. Let us speak of energy—the metaphysical economy of the self. Sex demands your time, your attention, your resources. It inflames, distracts, and often derails. That moment of climax is a robbery disguised as a gift.

 

Lao Tzu, in the Tao Te Ching, advises:

 

> “Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power.”

 

Yet how often does man, even the wisest of men, become a slave to this momentary intoxication, only to emerge spent—like a firework: brilliant, brief, and then smoke?

 

In the aftermath, one is left empty, not because sex is inherently evil, but because it is often pursued without meaning, without thought, without integration into a deeper context of life. The depletion is real—spiritual, emotional, energetic. You have traded vitality for a blink of dopamine.

 

III. The Illusion of Fulfillment

 

The philosopher Blaise Pascal wrote:

 

“All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”

 

Sex becomes a distraction from the abyss within—a loud applause over the quiet truth that we are afraid to face: that we are alone, that we crave validation, that we fear the passage of time without meaning. In many cases, the act is a plea against mortality, a grasp for transcendence—but it is a poor substitute.

 

IV. The Cost of What Could Have Been

 

In terms of opportunity cost, what could that energy have become? A book written. A thought deepened. A life transformed. A higher self reached. Philosophy itself begins when man dares to pause before action, and consider the aftermath.

 

Friedrich Nietzsche challenges:

 

“Is life not a thousand times too short for us to bore ourselves?”

 

Yet how often is sex, particularly casual or compulsive sex, not a form of boredom in action—a drama scripted to escape the silence? Afterwards, we return to that silence. Wiser? No. Emptier? Possibly.

 

V. Redemption Through Awareness

 

Let us not be puritans nor hedonists, but seekers of balance. The real question is not whether sex is good or bad, but whether it is meaningful. Does it build the soul, or drain it?

 

The Stoics, especially Epictetus, urged us to be mindful:

 

“Freedom is the only worthy goal in life. It is won by disregarding things that lie beyond our control.”

 

Desire, when left unchecked, becomes a prison. And the irony is this: the moment after, we realize how unfree we were before the act—and we vow, until the next time, not to return.

 

VI. So Then After Sex, Then What?

 

After sex, you meet yourself—your tired, fleeting, unsatisfied self. You meet the truth: that climax is not completion. That pleasure is not purpose. That biology is not identity. That silence returns, and asks: Now that you have done this, what have you become?

 

That is “The Moment After.”

About the Author:

The author, Isaac Christopher Lubogo, is a Ugandan lawyer and lecturer