Having not experienced true loss for far too long, you grow insulated and content, cut off from the harsher whims of fate, and indeed, the rest of human experience. You--and everyone you've ever cared about--remain exactly as you are now, snapshots frozen in time. There is no more pain. You never grow as people, never learn anything new. Incidentally, assuming death constitutes "bad," you'll all live through eternity, slowly going insane over eons of loneliness and eventually experience the inevitable heat death of the universe.
I wish I was independently wealthy and could afford to draw my comics all day.