focal points...

At some point in our lives, and usually more than once, we all have to decide on what object we want to focus on. It's like a lens; the world is a large array of objects, and we can selectively focus on certain objects. However, you cannot focus on everything. More often than not, the projected image will be one big blur.

I've come to that point. I've gotten the lens, and it seems to be a very nice one, capable of a wide enough range of focal lengths to make most objects easy to focus on. Bad thing is that it's got a few scratches. Minor ones I could possibly polish away. These are basically canyons.

I'm chatting with a Julius. In it, we were discussing about how we'd like to be treated after death:

jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
i'm going to have my body freeze dried, then ground to dust
jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
then have that dust burned
jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
and from those ashes, make a pot
jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
then break that pot into tiny tiny pieces, and then ground into dust again
jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
the first person who will drink that dust will have my entire fortune
jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
mwahahahahaah
Life Goes On.... says:
well
Life Goes On.... says:
i am not so cruel to myself
Life Goes On.... says:
if i do die .....i guess i will be cremated
Life Goes On.... says:
i guess i will have my loved ones to spread my ashes into the air
Life Goes On.... says:
explore the greter beyond
jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
yea
jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
throw into the air
jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
then fall back onto their faces
jin - sometimes, i feel like everyone's better at me in everything; brains, brawn, bod. then i realise, they're short! says:
damn good la you
Life Goes On.... says:
hahaha
Life Goes On.... says:
well....being your friend for so many years
Life Goes On.... says:
learnt a thing or two
Life Goes On.... says:
hahaha

One thing I noticed from this conversation, and many others, is that one common point is how possibly the most useless, and potentially annoying, habits are the ones that other people pick up from me.

The thing about focusing is that it also depends on how well your lens was built. How it's built depends on the methods used to grind it. How skilled the craftsmen are that grind it depends on how well you trained them.

And how well did I train them? From results, I'd probably have made them as potato peelers.

It's about another month and a half to a new place. That is if everything goes right. And if it doesn't, it probably will be in another new place. Or nowhere. A life is only worth living if your lens is polished and clean. I am a chipped, offcenter wreck. There leaves to be a slight possibility of doing something about it. And there may not.

Why do I care? I don't. I just wish sometimes that all this could go away. Or that I could. But where would it go? Where would I go? Would it make any difference?

Most people my age care about specifics. Like how they'd sort out their crushes, their finances, their education, their homes. Stuff like that. Me, I worry about things I can't really fix. And maybe that's how I'm different. And why I think I've stopped caring. My skin tingles at the thought. And the thought repeats like it's a tape on a loop.

Maybe it's time to go.

And I just realised, I don't like my hair that much after all.