Finished.
And God, oh GOD am I depressed.
Not so depressed, though, to consider installing 45 calibur ventilation shafts in my skull. It would take something much worse than that to get me there - such as reliving a certain rather disturbing sequence from "Deliverance" once an hour for the rest of my life.
In that final hour, when each breath is a struggle to take, and you are looking back over your life's accomplishments, which memories would you treasure? The empires you built, or the joy you spread to others?
Therin lies the true measure of a man.