They say that time goes by faster the older you get. Well, I'm 21 and I can't imagine my life moving any quicker than it is right now. I look at the time at the end of my days and can't believe that it's already 10 o'clock, or that it's already a Thursday when I feel like I still can't get over my hangover from last weekend. I'm at a constant state of wanting to get to the next event to attend, the next errand to run or the next responsibility to take care of, that I can't sit here and enjoy the moment I'm in without thinking about what else I need to get done. And no matter what, I never feel prepared enough for the present.

Remember when you were in high school, and seniors in high school seemed so cool driving to school, going off-campus for lunch and getting ready to go to college? Then, you became that senior and you didn't feel old or mature enough to be in that stage of life.

Then, remember when you were a freshman in college, and the juniors and seniors seemed like real-life adults with jobs and accomplishments that you swore you'd never achieve? Well here I am, and I still don't feel qualified to be perceived in that way because I don't know anything.

I know absolutely nothing. I began writing this article with the intent to list out some "lessons" that I've learned in these past few years and to offer some wisdom I've gained from my trials and errors. Quite honestly, it also may have been an attempt to convince myself that maybe I did something right, and that possibly, my experiences make me qualified to offer advice. However, as this article developed, I only found myself to sound more stupid and completely unqualified to offer any advice to my peers.

I've read many of the self-help books that are listed on the New York Times' Bestsellers list; I've read articles that are meant to inspire 20-somethings to do what they love and live a happy life; I've met with professors and professionals to seek advice on what I need to know going in to my last year of college and how I can prepare myself for my career. The common theme of all of it is this: you are going to fail.

You're going to fail, and you're going to be okay with it. Steve Jobs, Walt Disney, Albert Einstein, Isaac Newton, Oprah Winfrey, George Lopez, Steven Spielberg, Michael Jordan, Justin Bieber, Mark Zuckerberg -- these are notable people who not only failed, but did so publicly.

I'm not telling you that you're great, that you're brilliant and special, and that you're going to be publicly recognized for your accomplishments one day. Actually, the chances of that happening are slim to none. However, I'm hoping to shed some optimism, maybe a little bit of hope, and a lot of inspiration to reassure you that as we grow up, we're never going to be where we thought we'd be, nor will we feel like we completely know what we're doing. Maybe the beauty of life is the anxiety that it induces in us, the fear of the unknown. Or maybe that's the worst part about it and we're lucky to have good people and beer to get us through day by day.

Failure is inevitable and the fear of it is exciting. It's what makes us afraid of complacency; it doesn't let ourselves settle at "good enough"; it calls us to a higher standard of living a life filled with honesty and integrity. For every one success, I've probably had twice the amount of failures, but I'm beginning to come to terms with it. It's fun this way, and it gives you something to talk about at the dinner table.

Also, thank you to my parents, professors, employers and friends who have never failed to remind me when I fall short of my potential.