I’m Ne and not Ni OTL
So INFJ is impossible for me.
/tears /the struggle of finding yourself in MBTI hahaha
I feel like ENTP, but I can also be ENFP or INTP
Funny enough when I put this blog in this blog-mbti-analyzer thing, I got ENFP “The performer” quiet a lot.
And the TvTropes page for MBTI helped me understand a lot too.
I think I am P though….I wait too long for more and more data to come in, partly out of uncertainty. I can’t act without collecting all the data first usually…..with important things at least. Procrastinate – YOUR LIFE! >8D
I wonder if Roberto is an ITP or ISJ child. hummm. He’s so quiet too. I think maybe ISJ……? This part makes me laugh from the Portrait of the ISJ Child:
ISJs are very in tune with their bodies, and very aware of their bodily needs. They want regular sleep and meals, and will become unsettled quickly if they suffer in want of sleep or food. They will usually go to bed cheerfully without fussing. Parents of an ISJ should make sure that the ISJ can keep a consistent schedule for food and sleep.
why is that bold idk. I’m tired bye.
I like that Darcy/Elizabeth = INTJ/INFJ okay bye.
I write left-handedly better than [Merk] by miles.
Screw you [Merk], leaving mid-episode.
I am a left-handed demon made of wings and papaya leaves, but don’t blame my idiosyncrasies on my nausea because it isn’t soundwave, goodbye, fetch me my caramel scented biscuits fool!!!
(This one is a nonsense poem, I was watching a show with my sister and she left and I made this and showed it to her for some reason. Idrk, I just know it was really really hot in our room and it still is. This is the hottest room in the whole house and I don’t know why).
Illuminating wafts of recollection,
These splendid spells of split-perception
an intimation, of a strong sensation,
revived with the connection of your soul’s past animations.
Or simpler still, your memory book.
Your mind, prized moments, pictures took.
Or lesser still, don’t be afraid,
of horrors, traumas, ‘live within their grave.
More sacred still, to reminisce,
by chance or circumstance, the syncing of this:
A few minutes of nostalgic bliss,
as two souls recall their paths once stitched,
in one way or this way,
a wistfulness, an acknowledgment-
What once was tied is now amiss….
The moment passes,
are you often like this…?
You may possess my heart, but I possess your soul, the GOAL is to possess you whole, you KNOW my intentions, my most prized possession, is to inflict on your complexion, the most ardent expression, of my intensely loving devotion and afflicting affection – phew what a mouthful. Let me show you instead. Let me show you what real love is. Let me show you instead. All you need is me, and you’ll not be wanting of a shred, my sweet, you’ll not be wanting to be fed, my pet, I’ll take care of everything, my love, I’ll take care of them all too, my dear so don’t worry about a thing pet. I’ll be your mother, father, brother, I’ll be your sister, lover, uncle, because why split into pieces what you can have in one? Why split into pieces…
(I know a lot of amateur poets try that rookie yandere stuff at least once, and probably a couple try to make it clever, and if any of them are cringe-inducing, this is probably one of them. As typical, I had an idea (and it wasn’t developed, perhaps my biggest mistake) and the execution failed because I’ve not the skill yet. But I’ll probably revisit this in the future.)
My left feet dies sometimes.
I’m just kidding.
My jokes are lame,
They’ve never made you laugh, have they?
Oh they have?
I’m not too unfunny then?
I’m pretty funny?
Well, thanks then.
I know, but it’s nice to know..
I’ll keep ’em coming then (haha sucker!)
Power to the people, except in times of crisis, which is when they really need it.
A delegating responsible majority – impossible.
A clan of fools. A simple many. There is no wisdom, no proverbs, strength of spirit and mind.
Not everybody can flourish.
Choose what to neglect.
Starve souls or bellies, and bellies, and minds.
Feed hearts, on hearts, but you can’t live off love alone, love alone.
The Bibles might be gibberish.
Sometimes I have nothing to say.
And I miss my hunger for nothingness, stillness, peace, blank.
In a storm.
i hate my life
but i think some good came out of this fight thing
but i started to hyperventilate
my arms started to go numb anyway. from the lack of oxygen? also the strain they’d been feeling the days before that and especially that day. so i think that made it worse.
i hate showing those sort of emotions. i hate crying. i hate tempermentalness.
i want to go home. i want to breathe. i want nature and solitude.
or maybe i want solitude when i don’t feel safe.
emotionally i mean.
i think good came out of it and when i dont focus on it i don’t cry and i haven’t – oh wait i did .. well anyway it feels like…i stop caring when my emotional state is threatened. i distance myself from everything. i don’t want to think of the problem. it’s like it’s not worth it. it’s selfish maybe but i dont care if i don’t feel safe or calm or secure. i just want to make sure i dont cry. i want to be happy? or safe….
i hate life. i want to go home. i want to be with calm people. i want my old friends back. i want new friends who aren’t serious and are friendly and will talk and understand and….