You know what I’m thinking about? I’m thinking about Christopher Walken in the movie, Communion. I’m thinking about Jeff Bridges in Starman. I’m thinking about David Lynch in every movie he made.
Isn’t there something beyond human in INTJs? They don’t belong here. Which reminds me. I’m thinking of Thom Yorke in the song, Creep. Not to mention Jonny Greenwood, the guitarist on same song. Not to mention just about any INTJ that has ever existed. They are all staccato and strange. Inhuman. But not in that robotic way of INTP. No, it is more that they are organic creatures from another planet. And they are trying on the human experience.
Because the human experience is a feeling thing.
I’m thinking of John Lennon. What is it about INTJs? They are so genius. So alienesque. They are like visitors.
Do I need to even bring up Yoko Ono? Many people would rather forget her. Myself included. But, seriously ponder her for a bit. Get stoned and think about Yoko Ono. I dare you. You’ll be crying for your momma in no time.
INTJs are really hard to write about. In a sense there is nothing to say. They are so other. And there is something defiantly minimalist about them. Yet, there is something that they reveal that no other type can. Something truly alien. And scary. And creepy. Some aspects of human experience that only they are privy to. Something so dark and icy. And yet, many of them function just fine. Very capable souls, these INTJs. And dedicated to something extraordinary.
As a matter of fact, some of the greatest geniuses that have ever lived were INTJs. I mean, the list goes on and on. INTJ is basically synonymous with genius. At the top of their game they can revolutionize whole worlds of thought. Create epic closed systems such as psychoanalysis or communism or objectivism. I mean, these are the thinkers of the whole realm of thinkers.
And yet, they remain silent in some way. Eclipsed. Inhuman. Unrecognized. Unknown. It is like they can pass their whole lives among mere mortals and never be discovered or known. Think I’m joking? Well, remember Emily Dickinson. She was discovered after she was dead. Lived most of her life as a recluse in a room writing poetry.
And this is what I’m saying. And this is what I’m talking about. Do you feel me? Do you feel the weight of these INTJs?
So arrogant. So independent. And I don’t mean independent like some liberal hipster means “independent.” I mean that these motherfucking aliens can live their whole lives working away at great and epic things and pass people in the street and no one knows who they are. No one knows what their struggles are. They are lost to human sympathy. Do you know how painful that is?
And these INTJs go on so capably and so quietly. They are figuring shit out. They are figuring out shit that non-INTJs have no idea of. And they can go on like this for years and years without any hint of balking. They can enter realms no other human has ever entered. And they can stay there for years and years traversing this alien and icy world that no one has ever dared to set foot on. And they can do it without recompense and without reward.
And then one fine day their minds can break into smithereens all because of the simple lack of a feeling impulse to tether them. So sad, so tragic. It is the stuff of true nightmares.
And unlike INFJs they have no need to be known as people. So, they just go on until they can’t.
Well, there is something here that commands my veneration and respect. It leaves me in a state of awe to ponder these lone souls. These cat souls who can fly off into worlds we know not of. I mean, I have no words to express it, but, o, how I want to pay them homage.
INTJs are really something to be pondered. They can’t really be spoken of properly. I suggest finding an instance of their kind and putting their picture up on your bedroom wall and each day as you awake to spend the first ten minutes or so of your day looking at them and pondering them. Who are they? How are they? How could they be?
The upshot of this is that you won’t need drugs anymore. No, this activity will leave you in a state of calm surrealism. It’s not a psychedelic vibe. It’s not a drowsy vibe. No, it’s other. And that is what we are looking for from drugs, right? So, put a little INTJ into your slipstream.
Try to figure out what John Lennon saw in Yoko Ono. It’s important, you know. These things are the stuff of our lives. Whole cultures have arisen from these meditations.
But, you probably won’t. Because you don’t have time. It seems so silly. So beside the point. Because you want to stay comfortable and cozy. Who would do such a thing? Only clowns. Only weirdos.
Has anyone truly understood Mr. Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche? Do we not only see the “evil” side of him? These INTJs are so misunderstood. But, they can tell us something about ourselves because they are outside of us.
They are visitors. And we are animals in cages.
And have you heard the INTJ message of love?
For shame, child.