MBTI things

INTJ gothic

INTJ gothic

- one by one, every real and fictional character you thought was an INTJ is pronounced mistyped. you begin to wonder if INTJs are real. that's probably exactly what they want you to think. how much longer until they come for you

- you have a big project you're working on. all your moments of clarity for this project come at inconvenient times. you haven't eaten or slept in days. you didn't even realize that until just now

- that one class is much more challenging than you expected. you suspect the worst, but you don't want to voice your concern, because you know once you say it you'll have to admit it's true. and you can't bring yourself to accept the consequences of the fact that your professor is a fellow INTJ and you are an idiot in the subject they teach

- you have a theory for everything. everything except whatever your friends are asking you about. how is it that every single time they manage to find those rare things on which you don't have a theory

- you've been here before. you have stories to tell. you find yourself unable to tell them, because you are future oriented and give no thought to what has already occurred. memories clearly only float around your mind to attack your rare type status and make you an ISTJ

- there is discourse somewhere in the room. you do not want to be part of the discourse. someone is leaning over the back of their chair and inserting judiciously timed comments that all start with "but the real question is" or "you know what I just realized the other day?" you are a little disturbed to find that person is you, but what can you do about it now? it will always happen this way

- you appear to be in perfect health, but still you cannot see, touch, taste, smell, or hear at the level of an average person. in fact, the only sensation you experience is getting drunk every time someone is wrong, and people are always wrong

- you know you're right, you just know it. every other INTJ also knows they're right. all of you disagree. the universe is tearing itself apart with all these contradictory realities occurring at once. which, by the way, is another plot twist you totally called

- every time you have a new obsession, you start seeing it everywhere. your current obsession is disaster stories. this must mean something, but do you really want to know? (of course you do, you sadistic nerd)

- the only ones who truly understand you are your cats and your drafts folder. maybe they understand you a little too well. especially that one cat