I’m not the voice of a generation, or the voice of anyone special for that matter. I’m just me. And I have things to say. Thoughts inside my head. Sometimes, they’re outrageous. Sometimes, they’re logical. I’m predictably unpredictable. I’m a 20-something. I’m a grown up whose in no rush to grow up. I want a baby, while still being a baby myself. I spend my days enjoying all the freedom in the world. I have fantastic dreams and ideas of where life might take me, without the courage (or possibly the potential) to get there. I’m tired of waiting. I love my life. I enjoy my life. My life is great. I’m not compensating. But I’ve always wanted more. And that hasn’t changed. I want more.