'"Live life to thefullest**" said my father right before he died. So I tried. Wild parties, wild and fast women, and fast cars.'** I flew all over the world, and all the women I met were wild and fast: they would do anything for any man given enough money and expensive presents. If you failed to feed the greed, away they ran to some other drunken man, just as wasted as she, to do it all over again. I decided I had paid my father enough respect, because I was losing my respect for me. I retreated to my mountain Kingdom: tired of the world; tired of women; knowing no on existed for me. My supercars remained; but passion belonged to my painting. Still, I was empty; until Marianne, whose artistry with words astounds me. Is she the ONE sent to fill my empty soul and love me for me?