Have you ever stared at your twenties wondering if you're the only one feeling lost amid the freedom? Ron gets it. At 22, he grabbed a one-way ticket and left everything familiar behind. Seven years later, Twenty Something spills out his unfiltered thoughts—the bold leaps, the nagging doubts, and those quiet moments of clarity on endless roads.
This isn't some polished memoir. It's raw prose intertwined with poetry that hits like late-night journal entries. Ron chronicles leaving home, pushing through uncertainty, and embracing the unknown. Think dusty highways, solo decisions, and that thrill of not knowing what's next. Lines like "maybewhat i’m actually afraid ofare the things i can doif i allow myselfto really try" linger, challenging you to face your own fears.
Sure, it's framed around twenty-something turmoil, but flip through these pages during any life pivot—new job, breakup, or fresh start—and you'll nod along. It normalizes the mess: how doubt fuels growth, solitude breeds strength, and wandering sharpens your sense of self. Readers rave about feeling seen, like someone's finally voiced their inner monologue.
The writing flows effortlessly, mixing short, punchy poems with reflective essays. Sensory details pop—the hum of tires on asphalt, coffee in dive diners, stars over campfires. It's perfect for dipping into during commutes, travels, or quiet evenings when you need a nudge forward. Paperback format makes it road-trip ready, slipping easily into your bag.
Whether you're plotting your escape, reflecting on past adventures, or just pondering 'what if,' this book delivers. It doesn't preach; it shares. You'll close the back cover with a lighter heart, ready to try those things you've been holding back on. Grab Twenty Something and let Ron's journey light your path—wherever it leads.
