I really don't think procreation is a thing to be taken lightly at all. Problem is, the more you think about it, the more inadequate you feel, and I don't mean sex, I mean the actual bringing into existence of another human being. Depends on how you look at it - you might say you're giving life to someone, or you might say you're bringing someone into an excruciatingly long process of entropy and death from which there is no respite. I have no clue what would ever make me feel like I needed to do that and be able to honestly say I did a good thing. Feel free to call me "negative Nancy" but the pain, depression, confusedness, loneliness, alienation and disgust towards oneself cannot be compensated by any fleeting moment of joy or bliss. Actually, I feel like those moments are just there out of irony. I am not an emo kid, I'm a 26 year-old student and writer and I write this while using my mind, not under the influence of some emotional fit, just to be clear on that. I'd say sex drive as a perpetual search for pleasure is a fine distraction and definitely has its benefits, but I wouldn't put it at the base of our reason to be, and while I'd miss it if I lost it completely, I could definitely survive without it.