True story. Chatting w/ the ex last night, she says she took a Myers-Briggs personality quiz, and shared her results. We laughed at how accurate it was. So I was curious, and took the test myself.
If you’re not familiar with the test, it looks at four dimensions of personality, and categorizes you as being more biased in one of two ways for each dimension. Some people are more introverted or more extroverted... whatever, you can google it if you’re interested.
So I took the test, HONESTLY answered all 40 questions, and I literally rode the fence on all four categories to the point that the test could not categorize me in any way whatsoever.
I’ve been accused before of being elusive and aloof; my ex says trying to get my honest opinion on anything was like trying to nail jello to a wall. She always thought it was fucked up and weird that I don’t have favorites of anything (I really don’t, either). So, having broken the test, i guess, is the most accurate result I could’ve hoped for.
The more I’m thinking about it, though, the more I’m disturbed by this. I have no real identity, no soul, no passion. I’m in my mid-thirties and have no idea who I am, only what I’ve experienced (and only as I can recall it; my memory is notoriously bad, and I ahve a tendency to remember details incorrectly). I can tell you what I’ve done, but I couldn’t possibly tell you where I’m headed. I have no plan; any plans I make seem to fall through.
I’m not depressed enough to feel sad, but I’m not engaged enough to ever feel joyous.
The more I study things like Simulation Theory, the more I wonder if I’m not just an “extra” character in the background of someone else’s existence.
Apropos of nothing, found this on tumblr (Attack On The Hill?):