My Pitiful Life As An INTJ

Desolate Yet Morose

Ah, greetings.

It has been quite some time I suppose. It's peculiar that I ponder it presently. The vast canvas of the world being presented in a rather boisterous manner.

Bah, allow me to conclude with the nonsensical ramble.

I have experienced quite a few things. At this stage, I ponder whether I should attempt to be sincere and kind. That I am consistently ridiculed, and bash. I am in a severely depressed state of mind, and I have been for quite some time to have this on a factual basis.

In truth, I despise the vast majority of individuals I know personally. In fact, I believe that presently there are, well actually, I can not imagine one individual that I happen to adore to a sufficient extent currently, aside from my parents.

Sadly, school is plagued by incompetent and moronic teachers who use strawman fallacies, students that are preposterously arrogant, and utter twits who have no possibility of utilizing logic.

That was rather harsh, but I happen to be far more insecure than I exert.

I brim with a sorrow, that others happen to note. Yet they tend to see my bitterness and hatred as a comical aspect that I am using to convey humor.

When I wish to be humorous, I certainly will not depict that by being desolate.

I'd like to apologize briefly to others, despite my current state of mind, and the fact that I despise them nonetheless.

I apologize to those that I have ridiculed and been condescending to.

It is frequently noted at school that I am very condescending.

A girl stated: "You're like a genius, but the most condescending person in the world. It makes you an asshole." 

Well.

I embrace the title of "asshole," because there is absolutely no reason for me to be even mildly pleased. But I apologize regardless.

I am condescending because I am insecure of my own intelligence. I have mentioned this previously. That when I receive comments in regards to my intelligence, I thank the individual but shake my head and disagree. 

I don't believe that I am intelligent. Nor do I wish to be second best.

I despise it.

I despise the vast majority of those I have met if not all. 

I can not despise myself, because I have not met myself quite yet.

Simply because I am unsure of who I happen to be.

I suppose that this is the conclusion of this chapter.

Farewell then.