But your billions of dollars bring you no real happiness and you simply last out your days, surrounded in your pointless possessions that can't fill that void in your heart. So you go out in search of a soul mate but soon realize every woman you meet is out for your money, or even the ones you believe aren’t you cannot be sure of, which leads to an extreme level of paranoia. Eventually, from this, you develop several extremely self-destructive phobias that eventually lead you to, like all great billionaires, die in a hypo-allergenic germ-proof bubble with a huge long beard and tissue boxes on your feet.
I wish that I had a better avatar.