Around 2.00 P.M.
Room
Around the descriptions of the date above, I knew now that I was right. I was right about everything, and I was right about the part about when I look at people and I know what their inner feelings are before they even open their mouths. But hey, I've been thinking that that is a bad thing and I should stop it. Being the perhaps some small percentage of the world's population that has been able to do this, I do not consider myself unique. Unique is word you describe a three headed lamb with each head having two mouths and a three-pairing birth mark on their foreheads.
I am a complicated man with a simple heart. That's all there is to it. These may not be the feelings I've shown to other people but hey, a man can have many secrets. And INFJs have more than you can imagine. They are like the solitary piece of Orihalcum in a mine of Quicksilver. You don't know what I'm talking about? Good, neither do I most of the time. Don't ask me what I'm writing because free hand writing is what I do best and I am doing it right now. What's an INFJ, you ask? Well, its an archetype of psyches that has been categorized by... a lot of psychologists and whatnot.
The name of that categorization is the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBIT) that has been used for a long time it seems. Wikipedia doesn't say anything about that. Short story : MBIT categorizes the general people into GENERAL types. Imagine a plate of chicken chop, with nothing else. Just the chicken. Some people would think it's too simple and decides to go to the shopping and mall and buy some black pepper sauce in a bottle to spice things up a bit. Some other people would think it's just nice, plain chicken and plain chop. Some other people would look at this dish and thinks to himself, "How much calorie would this have?" and eat it anyway because she's hungry. But some few people would look at it and thinks to himself "Chicken chops... chicken shops.... Hicken Shops... Hicken Shop of Weaponry... Hicken Glare of the Northen Wind with his best sorting of weapons that he had made himself... Hicken Glare who wrought the piece of blade that had destroyed the last of the dragons..." And he ends up eating the chicken while all kinds of stories appear inside his head like mushrooms until he doesn't have space at all for barely anything else and he doesn't even know it's happening. It feels like a curse if that happens.
Long story... well the one before was long but this one is longer. MBIT is made up of two broad categories; Extrovert and Introvert. Extrovert means you are in the "real" world much more than the Introvert, who lives inside his head. Then there's more categorization. The way you make decisions, by perceiving (Intuition or Sensing) or by judging (Thinking and Feeling). Remember, though, that these are theories. And in theories you cannot really know a true definite answer. These are just guidelines for yourselves. I've long since really put honest trust in these kinds of labeling. I hate labeling for one. It's like having a price tag on your personality and the world is trying to buy you as cheap as possible with rubbish bargains. The way I see these categorization is that it makes it easier for us to understand who we really are, and try not to feel bad about it. I don't feel bad about it.
So, after sifting through the webs, I came to this website. CelebrityTypes is a website that takes the MBIT test a step further by giving famous personalities a personality test. Most are famous history-making people like Socrates, Plato, Hitler, Mahatman Ghandi or Roosevelt. Some are less obscure like Marilyn Manson. Whatever it is, there's a test that you can take on that page and once you done it, you would be generally categorize as one of the 16 broad categories. Congratulations, you have set a price on your toe. Now its up to you to increase or let it decrease. Want it or not, the world is like that. I may live inside my head, but that doesn't mean I don't look out the windows. I do. A lot of times. And it's very ugly outside. I don't want to go outside.
I am INFJ and I do not feel unique. Trust me, for our kind, feeling unique is what we detest the most. About 7 years before, when I was in secondary school, I would've given anything to become like other people; fit, talkative, social, likable, handsome and so on. Instead, I became this... socially awkward (like "Hi... Erm..." socially awkward) with a complete suspicion that everyone is plotting against me. The world was evil and I was the victim. So, around when I was 14 or 15, I decided to make myself a hero. I did. A lot of times too. It nearly felt as good as sex would've been... if I know what sex feels that is. I didn't stop making myself a hero, except that... it became more than that. I started to write things down. Names, plots, details of the world and so on until it became second nature to me to just look at one thing, let my mind wander and boom, a novel out of nowhere. I haven't even gone to make it into a trilogy yet, so don't go anywhere. Eff why I, I did make a trilogy but... it became more than that. See what I mean by curse?
Anyways, try and go to CelebrityTypes and take the test, it's in the left margin of the page, you can't miss it. If you miss it, you're blind and I suggest going to the Optimitrist and preparing several hundred dollars for a pair of concave or convex glass, held by plastic frames. Don't feel bad, blind people. A lot of people are blind actually. Blind about the truths that has been under their very noses... Such arrogance. And they call me ignorant. Butt-sniffing bastards. I'm not talking about dogs by the way. Just so you know. Ahem.
Did I mention that INFJs are people who think Intuitively inside and Feeling outside? No? Well I am now. That either means I have a serious problem saying what I mean to say or not saying what I mean to say and making other people really confused of what I'm trying to say. There you go. Oh and don't go to chats and say that you are INFJs and that makes you feel good because you are the 1% of the global population. One percent of 6.9 billion is a lot. We may come rare these days but look at the world now... almost everyone has a smart phone with a touchscreen. Thirty years ago you would've paid more than 3000 dollars for a 500 MB hard disk. I'm not even kidding.
And as always... Look out for a guy named Hicken Glare for the next weeks of the month. I'm sure I'm going to think something up. God, I hate it when I think up stuff and I missed a floor from my room. Mind you, I went up an extra floor, not left one behind. And only realising it when I nearly went into "my" room. THESE AREN'T MY UNDERWEARS.
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