Here I am early twenties, living a fairly reasonable, you could even say "fortunate" life. I'm mostly happy, I'm healthy, I have a great closet, and several cute guys who like me. Why is NONE of that fullfilling then? I'm not saying that if I were to all of a sudden drop my selfish existence and went to work for Amenesty International that I would feel loads better, but what if i did.
It's like that scene in the movie 8 Mile when Eminem is in the car with his fat friend and asks him "ever feel like you need to stop living up there (lifts his hand), and start living down there" (lowers his hand). I'm paraphrasing here, but I guess that's what my point is. When do we stop? When do we stop wanting to be Movie stars, and Rocket Scientists, Astronauts, a wealthy athletes gf, Madonna, Madonna, Madonna, Madonna...anything really. When do we stop wanting, hoping, dreaming to be BIG?
Is it after marriage, children, weight gain, heartbreak, or a career?
I wonder how many people's careers has held them back from doing what they really wanted to do, be, or become. Minding the Gap--I'm so over that!

