Get a Job, Sir

And so it begins, a summer of articles about campaign interns and graduates hopping on the campaign trail. Welcome to the summer youth vote narrative.

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a dream

it use to be a dream of mine to work on a presidential campaign - HUGE West Wing inspired dream but once I got to see what was going on … the love began to fade. I LOVE the candidate of course but seriously… the thrill is gone.

Your Revolution Is Over?

I always dreamed of what would happen if we won. Getting there turned out to be a muddy slog, and it died a cold and lonely death. As my own personal crusade faded, I found that I really didn't jive with all the other ladder-climbers who constitute the majority of young politicos. It's squareness is spiritually-crushing to me, and so I drifted away. The revolution seems far afield, even with the Red Dawn ever closer at hand.

And, also this:

A Dream Deferred
By Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?