My dear,
I want to be all used up when I die.
I want nothing left. No tears, no smiles, no frowns, no joy, no sadness, no desires, no regrets – nothing. When I die I want all my resources to be at their lowest, nothing left in the bank.
After-all, which car has more stories to tell: the perfect, shinny, sleek car with a full tank in the engine; or the dirt-everywhere, barely intact, running on empty, barely made it to the garage car?
Falsely yours,
George Bernard Shaw