Who's the most different INFJ here? I wonder if anyone, that who, is dare to speak no matter what may others would say. Perhaps I am. I am the expressive one. I still don't know everything. I am the most foolish being. I write not from my head, but I just listen to my soul and my both hands just do their job independently. I don't exist in this world. I consider myself as physically dead, like a disembodiment. Sometimes I'm afraid of myself, because I don't know what will happen by me in the future, for even I, can't predict myself because I can recognize all the color shades. I'm beyond the grip of my own hands. I didn't feel like any agony when someone destroy my own temple-physically invulnerable, but emotionally vulnerable. I can't notice the slip of times. I had remained as I am, my thoughts preserved, and what I feel and believe still resides since I was in the days of my childhood. Nothing has changed, and the ways of people around me. The voice the crowd still echoing inside in my head, every tounge, that makes me now even stronger.It is a great responsibility of being an INFJ.
