I'm afraid of those moments when the sound and color becomes muted. You know, when everything just runs together in a pathetic, bland stream of daily life. Those times when you're working just to get by and all the fun is gone. I'm terrified of when the lights begin to dim and it's time for us all to go home as you know we all will have to eventually. Last call comes whether you want it to or not, one last drink, say goodnight. Try to stagger home with that girl you met, try to say what she wants to hear because you don't want to be alone again. You have to give it a shot not so much because you want to get laid, it's because you're terrified of the passing days on the calendar.
It goes on and on and on until one day you wake up alone in a strange place with nothing but a hangover and an empty wallet. It's the realization that all of this ends sooner or later, the party dies down eventually and you don't want to be the last one clinging onto the tapped out keg. You can only hang on for so long, you can only drink away the memories, mistakes and regrets until you kill your liver or realize that you have to face them at some point, somehow.
You have to pay the piper eventually. It's not a question of if, it's a question of when. Everything, all the fun of the past 6 years has finally come to an end and now I have to pay the tab. I wouldn't trade most of it for the world.