Here’s a list of terrifying things I consider in my darker moments, some of them might apply to you too. To make things easier to deal with I’m going to illustrate this whole thing with pictures of animals from cuteoverload.com.
You might fail at everything
I know you think photography is going to work out for you, or that your band is going to take off, or your paintings are going to sell for loads, and I know a few people around you are supporting you and think you’re great too. But what if you’re just mediocre? What if you get to 30 and nothing’s happened at all? You might have to realize that it’s not going to happen, and then you’re going to have to get a real job, but guess what? You’re not equipped for getting a real job, you’re equipped for a shitty job. You’re going to be working in a shop at thirty. All the girls who liked you when you were in the band have grown up and go out with architects now. Plus your manager will be ten years younger than you and will tell you off in front of people who are also younger than you. It’s going to be the worst.
You may well get a form of cancer
1 in 3 people get cancer, guys! I read that on the internet, which is usually where I get my medical advice from, and actually that sounds about right. This probably isn’t going to happen anytime too soon, but you’re going to get aches and pains you’ve never had before, you’re going to go to the doctor and then he’s going to call you back a few days later and sit you and your spouse down and tell you you’ve got cancer. If you’re the kind of guy who never goes to the doctor, he might even announce that you’re completely riddled with it and it’s spread to every organ including the useless ones, and the best thing he can do for you is make you as comfortable as possible for the next three weeks. Then you can have a bonfire party just before you’re about to go and your friends will come and then you’ll fucking die three days later.
Your ex likes her new boyfriend loads more
It’s true. She basically thinks you were an immature baby compared to him, when she was with you she barely knew herself and now she can’t believe she spent so long with you. Even if you left it on good terms, when she talks about you she’ll cock her head to the side, half smile and say something like ‘aww he’s lovely, but it didn’t work out. He’s just got some problems and he’s a bit needy sometimes’. Also, you know how for a few months after you split up you thought she just “needed some time?” She didn’t. She was having pretty great sex with someone new already, and he was actually pretty famous.
Your parents will die, possibly losing their dignity along the way.
Gavin Macinnes already covered this one a few months ago, but yeah, just to reiterate his point, both your mother and father are going to die. There’s going to be a funeral that you’ll have to organize and speak at, you’re going to have to find out where they wanted to be buried, then you’re going to have to go through all their things and find photo albums that will make you cry and cry as you go through them. This is definitely going to happen, but it’s also quite likely they’ll take ages to die and you’ll watch them get weaker and weaker and have to put them in a home or a hospice and then they’ll go senile and forget your name and you might even find yourself cleaning up their shit and piss.
Someone hates you
There’s a few people whose feet you’ve trod on or who you’ve made a fool of yourself in front of when you are drunk who think you’re a wanker. There’s definitely about ten of them in fact, you don’t know that they feel that way. You might even like a few of them and be really polite and friendly to them when you see them in a bar, but when you turn around they’re going to mutter ‘wanker’ under their breath. Not only do those guys hate you, but there’s probably one or two people you haven’t even personally crossed who just wish you ill for being you. They don’t like your personality one bit, they think you’re arrogant, rude and not funny at all. They fucking hate you and there’s nothing you can do about it at all.
One of your friends is going to die
You’ve got what, 300/400 friends on facebook? A few of them are going to die in the next few years. Maybe they’ll just be guys you went to school with or maybe they’ll be your absolute besties, but it’s going to happen, even if you’re 19 years old. Someone might drown tripping on mushrooms at a full moon party in Thailand. Someone might get cancer like I said. A few people might get hit riding their bikes in central London. Someone might just get in a pileup. Someone might OD. Maybe a kid from school who joined the army is going to get his fucking head blown off by the Taliban. It doesn’t matter how really, but one of these days all these weird wall comments are going to come up in your facebook feed and it won’t be clear how it happened at first, then his mum will start posting baby photos and you’ll get an invite to his funeral in the same part of facebook where you get invited to ‘Joe’s turning 23, let’s take pills and get fucked’. The funeral will be horrible, too.
No one’s going to remember you
At the moment you are going to bars where everyone knows your name, social networking on the internet means people are on your dick chatting away to you 24/7, you’ve got a girlfriend who is bound to be way hotter than the woman you marry and your name might even be on flyers if you can DJ even a little bit. It feels pretty great, but, well, as time goes on, unless you’re truly remarkable (which you may not be) you’re going to lose touch with everyone. First you’ll get a job which is so involved you wont want to go out in the week, then you’ll have kids so you’ll never leave on the weekends, then you’ll get old and not feel like going out. then your kids will leave, then your partner will die, then you’ll be pretty lonely, but then you’ll lose control of your bodily functions and your brain will start going and then you’ll die and only your carers will come to your funeral cos your children have moved to fucking Australia.