I love my personality type. It hurts me, yet it pleases me.
INFJs are fond of themselves. They try to have friends but they often do not get past the “hello” phase. They prefer non-interactive media, which is why they predilect for poetry and prose. The fucking paper will not fucking talk back to them.
In the rare occasion that they do manage to befriend someone (after alternating between telling a potential friend too much and then too little about themselves, perhaps they found a balance for once), the INFJ listen to others and then they pretend that the anecdotes relayed to them were ones they experienced themselves. This way, everything can be about them.
INFJs often want to change the world, but what they don’t realize is that they, themselves, need to change. The INFJ animal is a badger. Badgers are dumb. Badgers won’t fucking let go if they bite you, much like an INFJ. INFJs are prone to biting people, the freaks.
And this just about sums me all up in three paragraphs.
almost everything, almost right