I've done a lot of dangerous things since I started college. I've hiked the Grand Canyon, six weeks after knee surgery. I've swam in numerous murky and, quite possibly, e-coli infested ponds. I've woken up just moments before a class started several times. I studied at Oxford for a semester, despite being a generally irresponsible student throughout my lifetime. I've even started a paper an hour and a half before it was due.

However, none of these things were the most dangerous. The most dangerous thing I did when I started college never threatened me with injury, but it did almost kill me:

I stopped dreaming.

Somehow, in our attempts to be responsible and set ourselves up for "success," we've redefined the word entirely. Sure, I could write another rant about how success is independent from circumstance, or I could write about how it's much more important to wake up each morning and say, "I get to go to work," instead of, "I have to go to work." Honestly, as true as it may be, it's all been said too much, and I think it may not be realistic enough.

American college students today are graduating with more debt than ever; jobs are few and far between; and the cost of living isn't just waiting around for us to financially establish ourselves before it inflates like a hot air balloon. As much as I want to believe that everyone can have their dream job, or at the very least a job that they love, I've lived long enough to recognize that the world doesn't necessarily work that way.

When I started college, I learned these things all too quickly. As a result, I decided to take the safe route: I declared a Communications major. I started researching job outlook estimates and ultimately tried to convince myself that I could still be happy writing copy for websites for the rest of my life.

Now, none of those things are innately wrong. Communications is a versatile degree that's beneficial to many who study it; understanding the probability of the job you want being available when you graduate is vital, and it's important to keep an optimistic view when you can. However, what I stopped doing when I started being "realistic" was believing that my life could ever be better than that.

At 18 years old, I had mapped out my life. I would graduate early, grab this job in the town that I went to college in, buy a house as soon as possible and settle into my comfortable life by the time I turned 25. The only issue is that I never really wanted any of those things.

I've been a drummer since I was five years old. Any time that I'm unable to play for an extended period of time, I feel like something is missing from my life. Whenever music takes over as a topic of discussion, my eyes light up like a Coldplay show. I had dreamed of moving to Nashville and being a professional drummer ever since I was young enough to be crying over Mufasa. (Actually I still cry over that, so maybe it's not a great example; the point is that I was young.)

When I started college, I bought into the lie that dreaming was for children: That believing that I could make it in Nashville was only setting me up for disappointment.

I understand that sometimes the responsible thing to do is to take a stable job. I understand that sometimes dreams shift from something like Nashville to something like having a family, and I'm not writing to refute those things.

I'll tell you what I am saying:

I'm saying that the world doesn't need any more 18 to 22-year-olds who think that the best they can do in life is take the first job they're offered. It's one thing to not chase your dreams; not having a dream is another thing entirely.

The truth is dreaming isn't safe, but not dreaming is more dangerous. Our culture has brought us up believing that it's only the extremely talented or incredibly good looking who achieve their dreams, but I don't buy it.

Now, I don't mean to sound like a high school seminar on happiness or some overblown pep rally, but I think it's important that we recognize something: We're in college. That quite literally means that our "real lives" haven't started yet. Quit hurrying into settling down. Find something you love, and see if you can make a career out of it. What are you adding to the world if you hate your job? I'll answer for you: nothing.

It may not work out, but what do you lose if it doesn't? Sure, you may be disappointed but not as disappointed as you'll be when you turn 40 and wonder to yourself, "What if I had just tried?"

When I graduate, I'm moving to Nashville. I may fail miserably; I may be eating ramen for a few years straight. The likelihood that people will reject me is insanely high, but I just don't care. I'm 20 years old, and if there is any time for me to go for it, that time is now. I don't care if I have to sleep in subway bathrooms; I'll do it.

This isn't about me. I'm not some special breed. I'm not more determined. I'm not even crazy. The only thing that's different about me is that I stopped believing that it was irresponsible for me to dream big.

Now, I'm not saying that everyone should change their majors and quit their jobs. That is irresponsible. Your dream doesn't have to be a job; it could be a city you want to live in, a team you want to have season tickets for one day, a book that you want to write or a mountain you want to climb.

It doesn't matter what it is, you just have to have it. You're too young not to.

I could grab my soap box and shout this from the top of Mt. Everest if I had the cardiovascular endurance, but instead, I'll leave you with this.

Even if everyone tells you that you're being unrealistic or that you need to grow up and think about your future, you deserve to have a dream.Find what makes you thrive and what gets you excited, and ask yourself what your life could look like with that thing in it; then double it and refuse to believe that it's impossible.