On Fogged Windows (another Metaphor).

Wrote this a while ago in school, now I have a chance to post it since it's spring break, finally.

Too often it seems that people see life through a fogged window of a car on the road. We only see blurred shapes of what's outside. This is kind of like Plato's cave, except we have every opportunity to get rid of the fog.

Some of us, the drivers- who are determined to go far, and get themselves where they want to be- wipe it away in haste, like on a windshield, so we can safely get where we're going. The drivers have no choice but to see what's beyond.

Others sit lazily in the passenger seat, not controlling where they are going. Some of these passengers still wipe away the fog to get a glimpse of the outside world (to realize ' the universe is wider than our view of it' in Thoreau's way), but some occupy theymselves by doodling silly pictures in the fog with their fingers. They barely scrape the surface of reality because they enjoy too much the meaningless fun they created on their own accord.

The back seat? That's even further away from reality. Backseat passengers, like front seat passengers, often draw in the fog rather than wipe it away. But backseat passengers rarely see the road in front of them through the windshield like front seat passengers do. Not only are they unaware of the world outside of the car, they are even secluded from the conversation in the front seat at most times. They have no concern where they are going, nor any say in the matter, but they like the feeling of being in the car. It's so comforting, and care free...