I did not start writing because I didn’t hear my voice anywhere else. Rather, I continued writing because I didn’t hear my voice anywhere else. Of course, my twenty-something experience is not completely unique. Twenty-somethings are just one malignant mass of entitlement and I’m right there alongside them. But, I continued writing because my early twenties have felt like the kind of stuff you simply can’t make up. My early twenties have been a bizarre juxtaposition of the mundane, the insane, the profane and the inhumane. I’ve been whipped by the natural growing pains of rent and student loans, side-swiped by harrowing heavyweights of rape and suicide, disillusioned by post-college dating and repaired by the company of good people, cheap wine and the capacity to write it all out.

So, this is Twenties Unscripted. This is not blogging merely for the sake of being another blog cog in the machine. This is not your Black-Queen-Natural-Curls Hoorah. This is not pretty pictures. This is not advice for how to live your life because, really, I don’t know shit about your life so I certainly can’t tell you how to live it. This is not another student loan-less liberal arts grad living in Bushwick. No, this is Twenties Unscripted. This is for people who like to drop f-bombs. This is for people who laugh loudly in public. This is for people who like their women sharp, their wine glass full and their jokes caustic. This is for people who hate budgeting, selfies, and Honey Boo Boo, perhaps in that order. This is for people who read, dammit. This is for people who think, dammit. This is for people who articulate, dammit. This is for your average run-of-the-mill twenty-something. But, really, it’s for me.

I rant. I roar. But, mostly, I write. That’s Twenties Unscripted.