It's getting easier to see through the fog.

Everything I've done so far this semester has been down to the wire, in every way possible. Waiting for crunch-time, for the sudden spur of disbelief that I have once again ignored the warning signs placed in my own roadway for my own benefit.

This is the fourth week into my last year of college, and I feel vacant. I should be more excited about my pending release from this cultural and moral prison.

I do know, however, that I'm learning a hell of a lot more about myself, especially since I've been hindered more than ever by my hearing loss.

One of my classmates approached me yesterday with a comment about my hair.

"You know, I really like your hair like that," he said.
"Thanks, I suppose that anything different is good," I said.
"It's pretty rare to see someone like yourself on campus. Does that ever make you uncomfortable?" he asked.
"No, but it does take a little time for me to realize that I'm the one that they're looking at, like a piece of meat in a window or a large pile of litter on the scenic route," I replied.

It's true. I'm like the artificial lilly in the field swarming with bees. I'm not real to them. To them, without the same smell and taste as the other flowers, I'm practically invisible. I may look similar, I may fool you from the first view, but I'm not the same, in fact, I'm hardly similar at all.

It's more honest of me to admit the fact that I'm here for a purpose different from others. Why go to school to just get a degree and get out, or to get drunk and party, or to make friends and contacts?

Life, it's a road with many interchanges; many choices that pervade your life with every waking moment. One slight maneuver to the left or right can cause you to change lanes into an exit ramp that will take you in a totally different direction.

Sometimes I wonder how minute these choices can be. I wonder if what I had for dinner one day, if changed, would make my life turn out in a drastically different persuasion from what it is now.

It's hard to understand how much fate controls our lives. Are we truly conscious of the decisions that we make, and their importance in regards to our lives? If so, then why do people make such radically wrong choices? Or is fate working in our lives so well that they aren't the wrong choices at all?

From every passing moment, we are living in our past. As I continue to write this entry, every second that my fingers lift and return to and from the keys marks a point in my past. Even after this moment is gone, another moment comes and pushes the previous moment into the past. It's a continuous process of living presently and pastly.

If this is our life, and the seconds that we live make all the difference, then what about our future? Are those plans nearly as incremental? Is it possible to know the future if we act in diminuitive incremental moments with deliberation and purpose? If so, then living with purpose would be parallel to living consciously. If we live consciously, in control of all of our faculties, mastering our emotions and actions, then we can arrive at the ends we desire.

Is living consciously the solution to war and tyrrany? Or is it all new-age hype?