INFPs are pretentious.

I am doing some parkour tonight, hopefully. I gotta figure out how to land properly, otherwise I will probably break something tonight. On camera.

What I want..?

1. ~E
2. F -> J
:. ...

ISFJ or INFJ or ISTJ or INTJ or ISTP or INTP

Guideline, not a rule. Laugh, it makes me feel less nerdy.

Who am I? Am I my mind? Am I the summation of my mind and body over time? My body is not my own, what right do I have to my mind? Surely it holds all my thoughts and motivations and desires and hopes and dreams and emotions and pain and all that makes who I am malleable.

I've been doing things wrong. When you run out of life, you run out of time. When you run out of time, you run out of life. Therefore, if you know how to manage your time, then you know how to manage your life. If you mishandle your time, you mishandle your life. I am not entirely convinced in free will, but I know this: I am responsible for my actions.

So what am I doing with my time? Surely I can do better than this. I need to stop focusing on how I relate because I suck at that. Instead, I must first know myself and that will open the gates to what I need to do in life and how I fit in this world. For certain, every person is a puzzle and every human is a piece of a greater puzzle. I must therefore know what shape I am and what I look like in order to relate to the pieces around me. Otherwise I might as well be flipped over or continually rotating randomly until I just happen to fit in.

I am young and foolish. I haven't done much except child's play. I am tired of living like this, and I wonder when I will grow up. I know I have goals in life, but when are those possible if I am just a steam engine with no logs, or a car with no wheels? I need to get myself straight before I can go anywhere.

So this is my focus:
Personal application and reformation. God in my life. Nothing else could possibly matter right now. No school could trump that, no girl is worth pursuing before that, and no time is left to lose.

This is your life. Are you who you want to be?
I dare you to move.
Today is all you'll ever have.

Crap, I need to get off my duff.

Okay, so I met this INFJ. I typed her either INTP or INFJ, but it should've been obvious that she was INFJ. They look a lot alike, and have similar patterns of behaviour (introverted, intuitive, strive for competence, etc.). But INTPs tend to be much more rebellious, and would've come out more obviously. Anyway, she was really cute. I asked her out today. (she's like the 3rd person I have ever asked out) She has a boyfriend, which is cool. But... while I can deal with a challenge, I wouldn't want to ruin a 3-year relationship. She was really nice and flattered and such, much in the cute way that INFJs tend to be. But yeah, so she's taken. Onward! A new island approaches!

I was right, but I was wrong.
She was right, but she was wrong.
We were both wrong, and both right.
Love is a choice. And you can't just turn off love.

A little more than a month ago, when she broke it to me, I felt like puking for a day and a half. I never shed a tear, for all my tears for her were shed on the night of August 13th, 2006. After the day of stomach ache had passed, I was fine. Everyhing was dandy. And so it has been, generally, since then.

But as always, there is a remnant that always remains. For when you give your heart, whatever you give, you can't get all of it back. So, you can't just turn off love. I still care for her more than I do most of my friends, but not out of romance. Meh. At least I can get to sleep at night in a timely manner, unlike back in July last year.

And the weird thing is, she is gonna read this.

But I won't go into more detail, really. Because I want to patch things up. I want to move on romantically and find someone else. I met this really cute INFJ, named Jessica. English Major, works at the library. I'ma ask her out. I was about to ask her this evening, but she wasn't there.

And it is hilarious, because on the way to where I expected her to be, my mind froze and my mouth got dry. Anything rehearsed was totally lost. Hah! This reminded me to say to myself, "Jon, just shut up. Don't think of anything elaborate beforehand. It won't be natural and it will be lamer than lame. Just dive in when you get there."

I got like 6 CDs (or rather, 2 double-discs, 3 cds, and a cd for my mom) for a little more than 37 bucks. Sweet deal for new CDs, eh? This is including shipping and handling.

I also bought a water filter and boots today. Yay.

I am identity. Who am I?

One thing I have noticed about life is that it is all about change: new opportunities and additional chances. Every day is new, even if the majority of the happenings are the same crap. But the fact is that we get opportunities to change, and if we fail it isn't that we don't have another chance per se, but rather we don't have the exact same circumstance.

For example, I may try to prove myself trustworthy to someone. Yet if I fail it doesn't mean I cannot prove it further, if anything it would mean that the circumstances have changed somewhat. There is always a chance to do anything, including proving myself trustworthy.

However, death is the opposite. There is nothing that changes, it is simply unmoving and dreary. There are no additonal opportunities or chances, therefore the circumstance will always be the same. One is stuck in that spot forevermore, without hope and without change. That is depressing.

So, if you are alive, you have a chance to do something. To change something. To feel new is all in your head; change is every passing second. If you are alive, you have hope and a possibility to make things right. If you are dead, then why are you reading this?

[edit]
Upon this reflection, I recognize that all those emo kids are committing the fallacy of affirming the consequent. "I suck! I don't have hope, therefore I am dead!!!" ...Losers.

You suck.

Seriously. What the heck?

I am tired of this bullcrap.

There was a robot. A fair machine of minimal importance. A new program was introduced to it, a virus to rot the system. After a long battle to defeat the malicious software, the programmer made a defense. He shut it down, put it into safemode and destroyed every remnant of the virus and its spawn.

After being barraged by the activity of the virus every time the computer ran, the programmer had introduced a protection against it. He had disconnected it from the outside networks to prevent further damage. He thoroughly defended the machine of anything that remotely resembled vulnerability to the type of virus, but that wasn't enough. He needed to test it.

It was tested by a frontal assault from the virus. Nothing. Immunity at last. The programmer had repaired so much of the robot while he was trying to defend it, now he can repair and make significant progress. The virus is defeated and no longer applicable to the computer. The computer can run around with the virus, warning signs will fly but nothing will happen. Stopped. Dead in its tracks.

The computer is running without the virus.

If I wake tomorrow, I have class to attend.

Meanwhile, I am getting better at typing people and prefer observing people in their natural environments. I need to start talking to people myself and engage their minds myself -- the less passive observation. I can see opportunities like I have been needing to, so that is good. I just need to act on them. Because I want a virus.

Tomorrow never comes.

Today is all I have.

I hit the sack expecting another day. I nap expecting to open my eyelids again. I am tired of living like this; it isn't rational, it is lazy, it is impractical.

I am going to go study, I don't know what tomorrow might bring and I have nothing else to do today... by this point.

I got some books for Christmas (among other things):

• Systematic Theology, by Wayne Grudem


• The Best Question Ever: A revolutionary Approach to Decision Making, by Andy Stanley


• Above All Earthly Pow'rs: Christ in a Postmodern World, by David F. Wells


• (and technically Martin Luther's Best Works)

Sweet!

I unexpectedly find myself doing something I didn't plan on doing. I get myself into a new scenario.

I learn. A lot. So much that I wish I learned it sooner, but at the same time... glad I learned it now. Yet all the while, feeling like it was a serious blow to my brain -- like the "Eureka!" you shouted in your head suddenly shook your body with immaterial soundwaves -- you get tired fast.

It inspires me to go on a pilgrimage and totally travel to find extremely new circumstances and situations, reflect and write what I learned... then move on.

And apparently I suck........and ROCK with kids.

I guess school is out. That explains why I haven't seen my classmates in class.

Sleeping for 12 hours is not overrated.

And so far I know I got an A in Philosophy and a B- in English. I haven't heard back from the other two classes.

I have papers to do. Crap.

One more paper, why am I procrastinating???

I decided to go do some minor parkour'ing and stuph outside. Bad idea. It is wet out. Result: sliding off a steel bench causing a bruise on my hand (I need to type) and landing in a very wet flowerbed (I would like to be dry).

Central Michigan University must love me.

Okay, so here's the deal.

I know this girl loves me. This causes me some awkwardness. We were friends and everything. I like being around her and stuph, but honestly... I don't know what she is going to do about it. I was really interested in her a while ago, but as we got closer I was hesitant and foolish simultaneously -- creating a feeling that I wanted her and that I didn't.

So after final exams she'll be going back home. I probably won't be confronted about it until she comes back to CMU. But seriously, I am so torn about this. Why? Because I want to be in control, but she won't give it. She consistently keeps it in her power for either of us to pursue the relationship.

Theoretically, I know how to take the power for myself. But every time I think about it extensively I find myself reconsidering on personal moral grounds. Stupid ethics. Stupid concept of morality which includes individual responsibility. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It has even been keeping me from writing my papers. I hate this.

When I think of our next time we will see each other, in all likelihood, after new years, I get so torn -- do I approach with a hug or do I stand waiting for her to make the first move?

If I make the first move, it makes me wonder: Would I be essentially giving her the power and purpetuating the struggle? But if I do not, then she continues to decide when we move. Conversely, it could be the case that if I move first that it would give me the decision whether we move or not simply by emotional/social/psychological pressure alone.

Matt and I discussed this a lot, only not directly. He claimed that guys are required to make the move in all instances, because if he doesn't then he is submitting to her and giving her the authority.

While I can agree, I don't think it necessarily fits that I would be submitting. For example, perhaps she tries and I say "You are coming to me, but let me think about it." This would essentially feel like the power over decision is wholly rested on me.

Power aside, I do love her. Love aside, I do have a paper to write. Paper aside, I am very ready for a break from this routine.

And I need a car, desperately. Pray for me, please.

P.S.
I was convince the guy was a loser by his composure, dress, conversation style and vocabulary, plus how he and the girl interacted together. The idea that he is an EF just doesn't help his case, I guess.

My room is a mess.

I am not worried about my exams.

I am bothered by my papers -- a 4-6 page (REL140) that I haven't started and a 8-10 page (ENG201) that is worth 20% of my grade.

Händel's Messiah is good listenin'.

Meanwhile, I saw this really, really beautiful girl at the library. Amazing. She works at National City, a bank I frequent. She was studying, perhaps with a tutor -- thus I didn't bother her. But I was so tempted to.

I have a coupon that needs to be used by 12/31/06 for Coldstone. Girls normally like ice cream. I am not going to eat alone, and I don't think I want to eat ice cream with a guy. So it would naturally make sense to ask a girl.

Here is an example of how I started to bother to make an attempt. Scene: A lit hallway outside of the enterance to the library. A girl sits on the bench, quite nice lookin'. I am sitting on the other bench. She looks at her notes, my thoughts include, "She is probably waiting for someone. But if she isn't then I can still try."

"What are you waiting for?" I ask.
She points, "Him."

As he started to pass me, I was almost immediately convinced he was a loser. From what I could tell, he seemed like he was an extroverted feeler. Out of sympathy (but more coutesy and trying to hide my attempt to rock), I smiled and went back to my paper that I was critiquing. Thinking, "eh...I knew it."

Denied.

Odd.

So, aside from having IE's new version. I noticed something interestingly odd.

When I look into the mirror, I often contort my face. Like as if I am expecting it to be horrid or weird, but it doesn't fit to my expectations. Look at my new photo. I did that. Come on.

Do I believe I am not-hot? Or am I just not-hot and contorting my face makes me look better? Either way, something sounds unhealthy about this whole thing.

Nuggets.

All night long.

I spoke with an academic advisor today.

She tells me that all I have to do is take one more required class, and a bunch of various psychology and philosophy courses (of my choice).

Then I am done with college.

Honestly, I have fulfilled pretty much every other requirement (especially after this semester)

So I have shorter hair than I used to. But I didn't just now get it cut, I got it cut about a month ago.

Anyway, so my sister thinks it is absolutely gross that I have hairy legs. However, she is repulsed by the idea of a guy shaving his legs. I pointed out that there is no way I can win, she resorted to "well, it is because you have white legs with dark hair, if you had only tanned... then it would be brown on brown.....ooooooooooooooooo."

Likewise, I have hair on my belly and chest. Some find this repulsive, others believe it is a sign of manliness. I really don't care, I know I am a guy and I will not and cannot stop it from showing up.

I don't have much facial hair. I can avoid shaving for about 4 days and BEGIN to look like a bum. I want side burns. Those would be sweet.

My sister shaved my neck when she cut my hair. I really wish she hadn't. That just blows. Who wants a sharp back-neck? That is the lamest ever! Especially when you have had a girl tell you how soft it was back there, and that she liked it. It is like burning the teddy bear that scored you some points with a lady. It is just plain foolish.

Meanwhile, my sister is haunted by her friends making jokes about her back hair (she has none). She keeps wallowing in her frustration, "BUT I DON'T HAVE BACK HAIR!!!!!!!!" Such that she even took pictures to prove it. Guys are funny, and I know where they are coming from -- it is fun to mess with girls, especially when they are cute and show some signs of naïvity (sp?).

In other news, I love Latin. I think I even want to learn it before classical Greek. I have Romans 8:1 on my wall in English (NIV ad 1965), German (Luther Bibel ad 1545) and Latin (Latin Vulgate ad 405). Superhappyfuntime. Übergemütlichespaßzeit!

I think I have gotten over the 'worry' bug.

That is to mean, when I see something is out of my hands, I just let it go almost immediately and become quite apathetic. "Eh, whatever happens. I'm not worried."

Or if I just don't care in the first place, someone might be concerned on my behalf, I remind him by saying, "Eh, it doesn't matter. I'm not worried."

Or when someone apologizes to me, "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

I was going to go to a football game. The football game had pouring rain slapping the faces of many students and other spectators. The wind was blowing hard, and very cold. Almost freezing.

I lent my gloves to a guy. He thought I gave them. Well, he left. As he left I was thinkin', "He didn't return the gloves! Hah. Eh, whatever." I knew that in going to the football game, I would have no gloves. I didn't care too much. I thought to myself, "So the guy had my gloves, what does that matter? I have pockets, he needs the gloves more than me."

My dad was surprised that I just didn't worry in any way, and that I let it all go with very little opposition initiated. I just simply didn't care enough.

The next several days, my dad thought it was in his place to tell the guy to return the gloves. Eh, I thought he should just keep 'em if he thought I gave them, and this especially so since I didn't care. I mean, come on. I would rather give than lend anyway.

So the guy came back to me a few days later, "Dude, man. I thought you gave them to me. I'm sorry." I told him, "don't worry about it." He shifted the conversation, "The thing is, I lost them. I think I left them at my sister's house." I almost laughed, "That's okay. Just consider it an indefinite loan."

My dad approached me later, I told him that it was okay. They guy can have them, I am not worried. My dad remarked that I was blessed to have that ability to not be worried about it. To that I replied, "God has blessed me with gloves before, he has blessed me with a job. He can bless me again with gloves if he wants."

I bought gloves that were on sale Thursday night, they were better then the old ones.

The breeze was sharp. Every second the cold air rushed by my face, my cheeks were cut ever-so-slightly between the cells. My eyes rose and I recognized a man, his name came to mind, I pointed my glove-covered finger at him and spoke, "David."

"Hey! How's it going? Tim, right?" ... "Jon." His composure showed some brief awkwardness. "Oh man, I was way off. But you did a good job remembering my name." Changing the subject, I asked, "Were they playing Frisbee tonight?" He answered, "I don't know. I didn't go, but I heard some people say they would." Assessing the situation, I reminded, "It is really cold out." "It is, it is harsh. That's another reason why I didn't play."

"Don't worry about the name thing, you meet hundreds of people, ya know?" "Yeah. Jon, right?" "Yes, Jon." "Good, I think I'll remember it." I smiled, "I think that is what you said last time." He paused for a moment and looked embarrassed. He didn't have much else to say than "I probably did." I tried to recover him, "Don't worry about it. But hey, it was nice seeing ya. Have a good night." "Seeya around!"

---

Ashley: SO what did you do today?
Jon: Significant Other what did you do today?
Ashley: Huh?.... OH. Pfft, Answer the Question.
Jon: I died. Then I came back as a monkey with rabies. This spurred on much fun, as chasing people who scream a lot was my childhood pasttime.
Ashley: ur a crazy kid

---

Hmmmmmm. Girls are ticklish, at least some of them are. That is why I like cheese. They lure ticklish girls into my grip so I can make them giggle while they hold globs of golden tastiness. But I wouldn't know. I am not in Wisconsin. 'Need to fix that, methinks.

---

I saw two squirrels fighting ferociously. A random college student was walking by me and looked over as well. I spoke up, "Twitterpated." He chuckled.

I will rise victorious, the mighty leader of a new nation.

Procrasti-nation.

Gosh, I am feeling the effects. I just hope I get home before 4 am. It is almost 10pm.

I spent more money than was spent on me.
I gave more than was given me. In fact, I didn't have any presents. Destruction of tradition.

Instead of loafing the entire day, I went to class (on 4 hours of sleep), ate some chinese food with some acquaintances, went to philosophy club's first meeting (discussing modus ponens! :-O ), then went to work for 4½ hours.

I got a free meal at KFC and Subway, went home.
Instead of celebrating, I slept.

The entire day I had reggae music on my mind, or at least when I was bored.

It was a good day.

 Okay, so this girl starts talking "Hey Jon..? Did you study for the BIO exam yet?"
"No, I haven't."
"Oh, ...I'm screwed... I'm so screwed."

Then I thought to myself, she doesn't know me. I am not taking the BIO exam. She is talking to someone else. Hence why someone else replied to her, not me. Sexy.

Not.

Oh yeah, back to my homework.

I gave my two-weeks' notice for Wendy's. My schedule made it hard to work there. My boss is sad.

Aren't I concise?