As time progressed, so too did the tension between Mr. Lewis and myself. I found it hard to genuinely concentrate on his lectures, where he often demonstrated favoritism to the rest of the compositions students who chose to comply to his methods of "modern composition". Feeling singled out and isolated, I began to divert my attention, from lecture, to conversing with the classmate seated next to me, or the entire composition class for that matter.
One morning when exhaustion, from lack of sleep, hit with full force, I unwillingly dragged myself to lecture. I took my usual seat along side my fellow classmates in the front row. Mr Lewis took his position at the front of the class where he promptly began lecture. My fatigued state was suddenly met with a burst of energy, which initially caused a quiet snigger, though quickly turning into a full on laugh. I had hit my breaking point and was now experiencing a state of complete delirium. Everything Mr. Lewis said seemed to be presented, to me, in the form of a joke, and each new sentence, uttered from his mouth, being a punch line. Such a reaction made Mr. Lewis furious, stopping in mid sentence to dismiss me from lecture. He explained that I could return to lecture if and when I began to take it seriously. I rose from my seat, still laughing, and headed for the auditorium's door where I stood shivering outside in the brisk morning air, patiently awaiting permission from Mr. Lewis to return to lecture.
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