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May 2015
Job interviews terrify me,
Imagine a sea of black suits
And fake resumes.
Shoving reality out of the way
So they can act like robots
And smile on que.

You see I wasn't taught how to be like everyone else,
So when I sat down for my interview,
I knew I wasn't going to get the job.
So I pop my mental knuckles
And said lets do this.
Papers shift and turn all over the desk
As the man in front of me tries to decipher the codes
Written in times new roman.
Hold the phone,
He stops and notices some red on my wrist.
He ponders out loud,
"Is that a rubber band on your wrist?"
I say of course.
Confused, he asks why?

I take a deep breath
And tell him the truth,
Yes that truth
Nothing but that unchanged truth.
You see sir
I keep this with me at all times
I need to be prepared for battle
A rubber band war

You see me
And my 20 something year old friends
Run around giggling
Like they just found laughing gas
For the first time
Because we don't want this piece of rubber hitting us,
We chase through walls of books in libraries
Trying to keep ourselves quite
While the grown ups investigate
Where the giggles
And bold thumps on the carpet are coming from.

Because why?
Because this red rubber band
Holds me down to earth
Like the rest of the kids
Who star gaze to their futures,
Spreading their what ifs
And "wouldn't it be cool if's" into the sky
Grown ups call them stars.
But kids call it dreams.
Do you want to why I have this red rubber band?
It's because it's a temporary reminder
To never grow up
And become apart of this sea of black suits.
Jason Cirkovic
Written by
Jason Cirkovic  27/M/Colorado
(27/M/Colorado)   
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