Often, I closed my eyes. On red flags, Taurus dashing without thinking is a cacophony of tragic tableau. So I did, I saw the grades. Rosy white or scarlet or brick red, I failed nonetheless. That was, my 2nd heartbreak. I thanked and smiled ready to sob back at it again yet he pondered in further explaining that I just needed 0.1 to make in the tiny needle. Then, a name--- one that I know of, someone I talk to, somebody that I thought wouldn't do dirty. We were both stuck at the spur of the moment, him contemplating his mistake, me waking up because of it. Silence ensued. My thoughts whirred so much thinking of the degrading retorts I know that would hit goal. His voice cracked, I stood unfazed. He knows I know.

The name sported lower grades than I did. I failed, he passed.

It isn't true that when you fell in love the world stops, it was all bull. Because I was nowhere near flushing red because of it, I was beet root red because of rage. Maybe it was brewing, I felt it before. The world and its clownery, everything's a bluff, its polished lies and fabricated truths.

How hypocrite, reprimanding students of cheating when the act itself was three notches higher.

How desperate, veering down slopes of self-conceit, clambering mountains of deceit.

I wish them well.

Grateful for the time spared I jogged out—for the nth time. Away from dreamy-eyed Zen, out to the hard-eyes realist but I swiveled back, heels hot on the track. I looked up, suddenly the logo isn't that prim anymore. And I never felt so hollow than ever.