Posted in Cerita Pendek, Cerpen Bahasa Indonesia, Fiction, Fiksi

Perpustakaan

 

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Perpustakaan itu cukup luas, terdapat taman di bagian samping dan depan yang dipenuhi rupa-rupa tanaman hias mulai dari tanaman kaktus berbagai bentuk, bonsai yang diletakan di sudut-sudut taman serta anggrek hutan yang bertebaran di tiga pohon besar; dua pohon pinus, dan satu pohon alpukat besar yang terdapat di bagian samping perpustakaan. Dua meja piknik lengkap dengan bangku kayunya tertata rapi di bawah  pohon-pohon besar tersebut.

Menuju bagian dalam, bebatuan lebar dan pipih menghiasi jalan mulai dari lahan parkir kendaraan, bangku di dekat tiang lampu, taman hingga menuju pintu utama perpustakaan yang terbuat dari kaca tebal. di kanan dan kiri pintu kaca, sebaris semak sweet alyssum menghiasi bagian bawah jendela yang didesain sedemikian rupa dengan rak kayu berisi tanah dan sekam yang ditanami tanaman bunga violet tersebut. Di bagian atas, pot tanah liat berisi tanaman geranium bergelantungan.

Sore hari adalah waktu terbaik untuk mengunjungi perpustakaan di atas bukit itu. Posisi perpustakaan yang menghadap ke arah barat dan berada tepat di pinggir jalan perbukitan menyuguhkan pemandangan matahari tenggelam di kala senja dengan latar perkotaan dan pepohonan hijau di bawahnya. Mulai pukul 6 sore, kelap kelip lampu beraneka warna memenuhi pemandangan di bagian bawah bukit sementara langit malam bertabur bintang memayungi satu-satunya bangunan di atas bukit tersebut.

Perpustakaan itu buka selama 24 jam. Pemiliknya tinggal di bangunan yang sama, tepatnya di lantai tiga.  Sebuah teleskop terlihat di balkon belakang lantai tiga yang menghadap ke arah timur. Kedua pemilik perpustakaan itu merupakan sepasang anak muda berusia 27 dan 26 tahun yang dikenal ramah oleh penduduk kota di bawah bukit. Keduanya mendedikasikan sebagian tempat tinggal mereka menjadi perpustakaan gratis bagi siapa saja. Terdapat dua orang teman yang membantu pasangan itu mengelola perpustakaan mereka. Seorang pencerita dan seorang pustakawan yang berjaga di lantai satu.

Lantai satu adalah di mana berbagai jenis buku dalam berbagai bahasa disimpan di rak-rak buku yang telah ditata sedemikian rupa. Berbagai jenis bacaan mulai dari jurnal sains yang serius hingga beragam jenis komik dan buku fiksi tersedia di lantai satu. Tiga set komputer dan satu unit mesin cetak tersusun di sudut ruangan sebelah kiri tepat di sebelah lorong menuju dapur. di bagian depan, terdapat sebuah sofa panjang dengan rak sepatu dan loker di sebelahnya. Counter panjang berhiaskan tiga pohon kaktus yang tengah berbunga beradap tepat di hadapan loker dan sofa dengan satu set komputer terpasang di belakangnya.

Lantai dua merupakan tempat favorit. Terdapat tiga ruangan utama di sana: ruang baca, ruang bermain anak dan ruangan permainan papan. Ruang baca mungkin terdengar biasa di perpustakaan lain, namun di sini, ruang baca dijaga oleh seorang pustakawan, biasanya si gadis pemilik perpustakaan, yang akan siap sedia menjadi teman diskusi bagi para pengunjung. Ruang bermain anak merupakan tempat di mana anak-anak dapat bermain dengan berbagai permainan yang telah disediakan seperti Twister, Jenga, dan lainnya. Tak hanya itu, setiap hari, ada seorang story teller yang siap menceritakan kisah-kisah menarik kepada anak-anak yang datang. Ruangan permainan papan dijaga oleh si laki-laki pemilik perpustakaan. Ia berjaga di counter ruangan tersebut dan bertindak sebagai Game Master. Berbagai permainan seperti Risk, Monopoly, maupun beragam jenis Dargons and Dungeons serta permainan kartu siap dimainkan. Di sudut ruangan, tersapat pantry kecil yang menyediakan mesin penyeduh kopi serta dispenser berisi coklat panas.

Perpustakaan itu telah dua tahun berdiri dan pengunjungnya semakin ramai setiap harinya. Kedua pendiri perpustakaan itu perlahan mewujudkan impian masa kecil mereka berdua untuk dapat menyebarkan pengaruh baik kepada orang-orang untuk dapat bebas berpikir dan mendapatkan ilmu yang baik melalui perpustakaan mereka yang tak hanya menyediakan buku namun juga pembelajaran serta kesenangan dalam belajar tanpa harus merasa tertekan ataupun mengabaikan interaksi sosial.

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Posted in Random Thoughts, Short Story, Slice of Life

The Vessel

 

It was a small modern cottage surrounded by lush garden of various plants on a hill, by the river near a village. Living inside was a young couple, maybe at their early 30s, with a swarm of pets from cats to different species of birds. On its backyard, a medium size pond was full of fish. The pond was connected to a river not so far from the hut and it flowed to small artificial canals that streamed through the garden, allowing the plants to stay hydrated and the fish to swim freely.

The couple called their home as The Vessel. the building had two stories, a balcony with a great view from the top of a hill, and a semi-outdoor kitchen. Outside, a neat yet lush garden surrounded the wooden cabin, with small canals streamed endlessly, the plants were even greener than the fake plastic one in department stores. During the day, some wooden birds’ house could be seen in some branches of different trees. Different birds came everyday. The couple basically didn’t pet the birds, they only had some cats and rabbits while the birds were all wild; they came and disappeared as they wished.

The man was a teacher. He taught in a small primary school in the village and regularly invited the kids from that school to study in The Vessel. In his free time, he did free writing in his personal blog and gardening,  The lady was tough yet lovely. She was the one who interpreted the imagination of the man and ultimately designed The Vessel, putting the thoughts of both of them into a blueprint of ideal home. In her current circumstances, she actively helped the man teaching, did some experiments and scientific works to support the community, and establishing hand-made clothing brand of her own. In the past, both of them were the slave of modern city life which was full of negative social judgement and irrational demands. They left everything behind and moved far away to an unknown land of happiness where they finally could build their vessel.

-SHLI-

Posted in Contemplation, Fiction, No Offense, Short Story, Slice of Life

Aren’t they dead, dad?

haunted-cemetary

He stood firmly next to a huge wooden pillar. His dark green hair was waved by the chilling breeze of late autumn. His eyes were locked on to the bizarre view in front of him; a bunch of monuments that his dad had ever told him about: the deadmen memorials.

He was confused; why would the deads need monuments? Why bother having such vast space for them whom no longer exist in this world? Sometimes they even cut trees, killing more creature for the sake of such monuments.

His dad said that the deads have moved to different world that was separated to this world. “I would not disturb the inhabitant of this world if I am no longer here, unless I could come back one day,” he paused, “can I?” the dad smiled and slighly shook his head. “Then this monuments are useless, no wonder you don’t want one, dad.”

 

Picture credit: haunted cemetery

Posted in Short Story

The Reviving Van

That huge van had been parked there for more than three days under an oak tree by the hill. It seemed that the vehicle was perfectly well; too unusual to be parked for days by its owner. Meanwhile, the tree itself seemed to be dying. Yellowish leaves dominated the crown and thin tree bark showed the inner part of the wood, only the root that seemed to survive inside the soil as it showed some bulky pattern on the ground. Inside the van, a middle-aged man was seen to fell asleep with his beanie cap covering his face. His chest moved slowly, indicating he was asleep and not dead; at least that was what a girl who stared at that van thought about. She peeked inside the van closely after made sure the man was completely asleep.

The inside of the van was a house. The girl was astonished, knowing the van was even bigger and more complete than her house. She looked closer to the inside and found out there was a small lab too behind the house-part of the van. Something was working there but she was not sure what was the thing, only a very faint buzzing sound that came from that small lab. She followed the sound by going to the other side of the van where the lab was on. As she walked, she felt different air pressure; light, fresh air filled her lungs as she gets closer. Didn’t want to lose a single gasp of it, she took a very deep breath and exhale vigorously over and over again as she walked carelessly, and finally stumbled over something that seemed to be the root of the oak. She did not remember the oak had such huge root before, such tree with yellowish pale leaves and very thin bark would not have strong big root. ‘Wanna get in and see what actually happened?’ The question came from behind her, a weirdly heavy but funny voice of a man. She looked back as she stood up; a man with beanie hat and goggles on the hat stood firmly with his right hand on the tree. ‘You must wonder what I do with my van here, huh?’ As he asked that, he tapped the bark of the tree, strong enough to tremble the trunk, creating a faint rustling sound of fresh leaves. She gasped; fresh air, big root, such rustling sound and one last thing she just realized was the shade that covered her and the man, as she looked up, she saw a stunning view of green leaves that started to intensify that she never saw before. The huge van had distracted her from the tree that she didn’t realize the tree has been revived.

‘It is about to be completed. By the way, I am Goran.’

By: Fajar

Posted in Cerita Pendek, Cerpen Bahasa Indonesia, Random, Random Thoughts, Short Story, Slice of Life

Kontemplasi Singkat: Rumah

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Sore hari merupakan waktu favorit kedua sahabat itu untuk duduk di balkon kayu bagian belakang lantai dua rumah pohon Jingga, berdiskusi tentang apa saja sambil ditemani segelas besar cokelat panas kental dan secangkir kopi hitam tanpa gula. Aela mendekap gelas cokelatnya dengan erat sambil sesekali menyeruputnya perlahan sementara Jingga fokus membaca halaman ke-sekian ratus dari buku yang didapatnya beberapa minggu lalu di toko buku bekas. Di meja kayu, cangkir kopi mengepulkan uap panas yang menguarkan aroma wangi khas kopi hitam pekat tanpa campuran apa-apa, di sebelah cangkir, setumpuk buku lainnya tersusun rapi. Dari langit, suara burung gagak bergema di kejauhan seiring memerahnya langit, semilir angin meniup dedaunan pohon ek yang rindang meneduhi balkon beratap transparan itu.

“Jadi, selama ini kita telah melanggar kodrat kita sebagai manusia. Kita mengurung diri kita dengan sengaja.” Jingga menutup buku di tangannya bersamaan dengan ia mengakhiri ucapannya. Aela menunggu, ia yakin sobatnya itu belum selesai bicara, sambil perlahan menyeruput coklat panasnya. Gadis itu menarik napas, sesuatu terlintas di pikirannya dan hasrat menunggunya sirna, “itu sebabnya lu jarang pulang ya? Terus lu suruh gue jagain rumah lu begini tiap lu ngilang? Tiap lu ‘jadi manusia beneran’, iya?” Jingga terkekeh pelan, “gue tahu lu mau ngomong apa abis ini, dan gue udah bisa respon statement yang bakalan lu ucapin itu sekarang juga.” Tantangan yang dibalas dengan dengusan Aela.

“El, what is home to you?”

A place where I feel safe and comfortable. A place to drawback from the madness of the world.” Jawabnya sambil meletakan gelas coklat yang hampir kosong.

Jingga kembali terkekeh pelan, sementara itu Aela mengerutkan dahi, menahan mulutnya untuk tetap diam, “Manusia zaman dahulu menganggap seluruh dunia adalah rumahnya, El dan mereka lebih pandai beradaptasi daripada kita dan manusia lain di zaman sekarang. Mereka dulu terbiasa dengan berbagai macam bahaya, madness as you described it, people dealt with it instead of drawing back. Kita sekarang senang dengan segala sesuatu yang aman dan nyaman, seraya melepaskan diri dari berbagai madness yang sesungguhnya nggak terlalu mad,” ada jeda, yang kemudian dipotong oleh Aela, “kitanya aja yang lemah ya Ga?” Jingga mengacungkan jempolnya.

“Jadi, kalau gue tanya, where is your home? Lu jawab apa?”

“Untuk saat ini, ya rumah gue lah.” Jawabnya seraya memain-mainkan ujung gelas coklatnya yang hampir kosong.

“Jadi, kenapa gue mau lu jagain rumah pohon gue tiap gue pergi motret kemana-mana?”

Aela terdiam agak lama sebelum akhirnya menjawab, “so, I can escape from my comfort zone and perceive wider ‘territory’ as my home?” Ujarnya setengah ragu.

Jingga mengangguk sebelum akhirnya balas bertanya, “Menurut lu, apa menjadi manusia modern berarti harus terus-terusan tinggal di tempat yang sama dan sembunyi ketika kita merasa insecure? Pernah kan, merasa nggak nyaman dan khawatir justru karena kita di rumah terus-terusan? As if we don’t go anywhere?”

Aela mengangguk pelan, betapa setuju ia dengan pemikiran Jingga namun di sisi lain, pikirannya berkecamuk ingin berontak hingga akhirnya ia berkata, “then why don’t you bring me with you?”

Jingga tersenyum, “as you understand my point and agree with it, then you will be with me on my next trips,” ujarnya seraya melempar ponsel yang ditangkap dengan sigap oleh Aela.

Flight pukul delapan pagi, Puerto Rico? besok?”

Scroll down,” ujar Jingga sebelum menenggak habis kopi hitamnya.

Ada empat tiket lain menuju empat negara berbeda di empat benua berbeda. Aela menggeleng seraya terkekeh, “You don’t need to ask, I am ready to come home, to the world.”

 

 

Posted in Fiction

A Normal Rainy Day of Young Mutants

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A young woman and a little girl, probably her daughter, were standing by the canopy of a grocery . She carried a huge paper bag on one hand while the other one was holding the little girl who continuously pointed to passing vehicle on the street. Her small mouth slightly moved, seemed mumbling something, but it was impossible to hear what she said even from ten meters range because of the heavy rain. From the gesture and her expression, she wanted to go home and started to whine.

A man not so far from the grocery was reading a magazine in Seven Eleven. He checked his watch every two minutes and looked so impatient. He must be in hurry but the rain forced him to stop for awhile. He finally checked his phone, dialed a contact to make a call. His magazine was on the table. The cover showed a small photograph of a football rising-star on the top corner with a huge logo of local football club who won the league last season.

Everything was so clear from the 10th floor of her flat. She had been staring for an hour. With a huge mug of hot chocolate that she held with both hands, she stood by the biggest window at the corner of her living room, looking outside to the rainy sidewalk and lining trees and busy shops with everyone around there. Some hid to stay dry while some others were running hastily under the gigantic shower.

“That girl wanted her mom to hire taxi so they can go to buy ice-cream and that guy is waiting for someone to bring him his wallet.”

A sleepy-faced guy walking slowly behind her, as she turned around, he continued, “the running guy, one of those hasty runners you noticed, is late for his first date and he doesn’t care about his expensive leather shoes but now, just now, he started to worry about it.”

He smiled at her as she stared at him. “It is actually a lot of fun to see from your eyes and read their minds, unless the time you stare at me since it feels like reading my own mind and it is weird.” He sat on the couch as she started to looked outside once more, her reflection was there and she accidentally looked at it in the eyes. “And at this kind of moment, I read your mind.” As he said so, a dark fog was floating in the air around him and he suddenly moved behind her in a half blink. “Back-hug?”

She shook her head, “back-HUGS.”

For H

Posted in Fiction

A House on the Hill under the Trees

Nobody would notice that puzzling construction unless someone roamed deep enough to the forest. Its peculiar location indicated a conspiracy between the builder and nature. He must have spent years approaching and seducing the forest to get the permission in living there.

That integrated wooden cabin was lied on a small grassy hill in the middle of pine forest. However, the hill itself was almost fully covered by chaining giant pine trees, making the wooden building completely unseen from afar. There were two pathways that led to four exits to the four main points of the compass. each pathway led to small opening that provided enough space for the sunlight to shower the cabin during the morning time and late afternoon. The tenant, who was also the builder, created the cabin as if it was integrated to the pine trees surrounding it. The wooden house had its main hall stick to the grassy hill while some other smaller rooms were attached to the giant bark of pine trees. On the tallest and the greenest pine, a firm set of ladders that led to a crow-nest was built. On the back of the main building, a small garden was neatly cultivated with herbs and vegetables. From one of the window, a set of archery equipment and other hunting needs on a small cabinet could be seen in the corner of a room. The hunting needs were there, means the owner of that wooden house was supposed to be somewhere around.

That was so quiet around the hill until a pleasant noise of rustling bushes broke the silence. A young woman burst out from tall bushes at the foot of the hill. She looked like 20 year-old, wearing leather outfit and boots with crossbow firmly held on her right hand and bulky rucksack on her back. Two quivers were on her upper legs, almost empty. She slowly walked up to the top of the hill. A chilling breeze blew her light brown hair. As she reached the door of the house, she pushed it slowly, got in and looked around. She stared at the long bow and other equipment hanging on the corner, as soon as that, she smiled at an urn that was placed on the top of a wooden shelves above the longbow. ‘I have avenged you, master.’

Posted in Fiction

Synced

“How did it start?”

There was no one around, only some trees, a bicycle parked not so far from a vending machine, and the bench where I sat on.

“How did it start?” That question echoed in my mind and uttered automatically. I was asking myself while the wind swept my messy hair gently.

Continue reading “Synced”

Posted in Contemplation, Random Thoughts

Writing and Reading: Attempting to be Immortal and Travel the Time

Have you ever wondered why humans came up with the idea of inventing symbolic coding to communicate in written form until finally languages we have been familiar with now were born out of it? How was it before our ancestors figure out the concept of words, or even further, letters?

One more question: Which one came first? reading, or writing?

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P.S.: This is not book review

 

If you, by any chance, have done such contemplation and still, up to now, think of reasons behind the creation of written form of communication with its various symbols, then you probably need to read the book I have shown above this write-up.

Harari briefly explains the logical scientific reasons behind the idea of recording information in the form of writing. Some of you must be familiar with the concept of short-term and long-term memory, or in more technical terms, short-term memory is also known as processing memory in where the information is being processed before finally filtered and stored in the long-term memory. However, it is also obvious to most of us, realize it or don’t, that the processing memory is very limited in the sense of capturing and holding the storm of information and knowledge.

If I may put an analogy to it, you simply cannot hold your shopping items for a whole month with your bare-hands. You will drop and spoil so many things unless you bring something you can use to aid you handling the whole things. Similar to that, our short term memory was not created to remember every single input entering our brain. It has a limited span in where more information will be forgotten should they are not recorded. Thus, putting it down in a stone tablet in the form of symbols was what our ancestors did far before the alphabets and other form of written coding existed. By doing so, they could record and list out information and more than that, they helped themselves in more activities such as trading in where they could use the symbolic writing to represent the type of item and the amount they desired to trade.

The other significance of putting down information in written form is that opening chance to passed the knowledge or information through different generations. As a linear consequence to that, the writer, of any form of writing, will be remembered. The more you write, the more you allow people to explore the world, the time and you yourself which makes them remember you and experience what you have experienced during your time. Time machine might and would never been invented but there is at least simple way to travel the time: read. 

From what Harari explains in his book, that I still recommend you to read, and what my thought has just whispered to me about time travelling through reading and writing, we can comprehend the importance of writing as well as reading. The last word I’ve wrote on the previous sentence will not exist if our ancestors didn’t come up with the idea of recording information in the format of writing, or should we call it drawing since it is highly illustrative back then? And also, writing itself will be meaningless should nobody reads and attempted to travel the time and explore the multiple dimensions by reading what have been written.

Thus, start reading to explore multiple dimensions, and start writing to be immortal.

Cheers, happy International Literacy day.

 

Posted in Fiction, Kids' Story, Short Story, Slice of Life

The Game

controllers

From the outside, he looked like any ordinary boy with normal appearance and typically cheerful and carefree vibe of kids at his age, but what inside his head was his own world with unimaginably imaginative plot that he kept only to himself, though sometimes he unconsciously involved others by saying something unexpected to friends, teachers, parents and people around him. Most of the time, he would make a back-up line right after he realized his imaginative world breached into the reality.

This morning

It was normal sunny morning outside with the birds chirping and everyone was busy to get ready to work and school but not to him. Everyday was a new stage of game with new missions and achievements waiting.

Monday, 18th September

I am on my way to the place where I will hon my skills, a place called school. Homework is daily mission and stationaries are your weaponries.

“Mom, I think I forgot bringing my potion.”

“Eh? You mean your tumbler?”

“Oh come on, you start to be like Mrs. Parker.”

“Well, sorry about that. Here, bring mine. It has extra regeneration effect that will buy you time.”

“Sweet! Infused potion!”

“Yes, Infused water… Oops.”

“Mom!”

I think mom starts to put herself away from the game. Boring. But nevermind, I am at the gate of the dungeon now. Ready for hunting and leveling up.

“Get in kid, I am about to close the gate.”

“Chill, Gate Keeper, I know what to do.” He forgot that he was talking to the security guard of his school. As he realized, he ran away in panic, “see you Mr. Green!” The security shook his head as the boy ran faster.

Should not let it come out of my mind wildly. Self control. Mr.Green, the teachers and most friends are NPCs. AI controls them. Now first lesson is history and there will be a series of micro-test. Guess I will have to time travel and fix some fake history. 

During the test

There are five stages which I have to do either orderly or randomly. But since this is rescuing the bent history, I have to make it quick.

The first stage was about treason. It is said that Julius Caesar was killed by poison. I prove it wrong by stopping the one who was about to change the history and finally witnessing the death of Caesar as he was stabbed by the senators. Done with that, I move to the next stage.

“Joey, is that the text book? I told you to rely only from your notes, didn’t I?”

“Of course it is the time machine I built myself, Sir,” silence, the whole class was about to burst into laughter, “I mean… notes.” Laughs everywhere. Only a girl sitting on the corner of the class stayed calm looking at Joey. She seemed amazed.

Boy you mess it again. Talking to NPC as if they are another player. I have to finish this mission fast so that I can move to the other part of the map.

“Sir I am done.” He confidently handed the paper as the teacher received it and allowed him for early break.

Now bonus stage. Should I go to boost my strength and agility? Or my intelligence and wisdom? Or maybe sharpening the sub-skills related to those status?

“Do you wanna restore your health point?” Joey frowned. It doesn’t have any mocking tone on it. Besides, it is girl voice. He turned back and saw his classmate. ” May I join?”

Is she another player? Or she just mocks me? If so, she is probably a support type.

“Are you okay? Wanna go to the clinic?”

She chuckled, “shouldn’t we go there to respawn instead of restoring health? Or, am I wrong?”

Damn, she is surely the one.

“Well.. Let’s go then. By the way, you are?” He was nervous.

“Jill,” She introduced herself with a smile on her face, “and I play D&D too.”

Well, I thought I was the only weirdo in this place. Glad to fine companion then.

“I am glad to know that someone is actually thinking what I am thinking about: relating all these into game.” She couldn’t hide her excitements. Joey was surprised that she responded to what he just thought about. “Well, I thought I was alone too. So we shall set the same objective for today: defeating the mad scientist who tries to revive dinosaurs.” What he meant was biology test by Mr.Rick but Jill agreed to the idea of defeating mad scientist. “Let’s expand the map as well after that. I am new here so I have so many dark spots in my map.” Joey nodded responding to the girl.

After School

Mission completed and new companion joined my faction. What a day! Tomorrow won’t be the same as I can team up with Jill dealing with the challenges.

“You seem so jubilant, wanna share some tales?” Mom was preparing for dinner when she saw her boy was smiling and humming a backsound of video game. “I met another player, mom. So I think you can retire now.” Mom chuckled, “whoa, I bet he is not as good as me, though.”
“We’ll see about that. But anyway, it is a she.” He replied. Mom’s eyes grew wider as she couldn’t hide that she was surprised, “female player?” Joey nodded, “yeah, we defeat the mad Darwinian together. Stopping him to clone dinosaurs and also we explore the map to unlock new places.” Mom listened attentively as Joey continued his story about Jill, “I see. So you and Jill went home together eh? She lives nearby? Oh and I shall expect an A+ for your Biology test.” Joey sighed, “I know right mom, you are no longer in the game.”

 

Posted in INFJ, INFP, INTJ, INTP, ISFJ, ISFP, ISTJ, ISTP, MBTI

MBTI Relatable Pick-Up Lines: The Introverts

Few days ago, I’ve done the part of extroverts and their possible quotes. Now, these are the lines of their counterparts, the introverts.

INFJ: I don’t mind the existence of bad people since what bothers me are the fake ones.

You can be a serial killer and befriend INFJ as long as you don’t hide your sinful job behind a nice flamboyant mask of a religious and respectful individual. Seriously, don’t be fake people if you are friends of INFJ. They madly hate it.

INTJ: Am I right? Or are you wrong?

Once it comes to debate, there will be two possibilities: they roast you with tons of facts that they have prepared along with some back-ups and predictions of five possibilities ahead or they will just play it cool and ridicule you because they assume that you are not worthy to debate them.

INTP: You know that I was part of the science club before later joined school karate team and finally ended up here, in the movie club.

Just one thing about INTP, they sometimes don’t know where they go. They basically lost in their own interests over and over. “Did I join that martial arts competition? Don’t remember.”

ISTP: There is no way that we can’t fix this device. Get my toolbox.

To elaborate, MacGyver himself is an ISTP and it is true that most of them are adept in using various kind of tools and somehow born with a high curiosity towards something related to creating, fixing, and modifying stuffs in the sense of inventing or repairing devices or gadgets.

ISFJ: Are you okay? Don’t mind me, I am fine. Let me take care of your wound.

Imagine a car accident in where an ISFJ broke his leg while the other person got a small cut caused by a piece of glasses. The first thing comes up from his mouth will be the bold line above.

ISTJ: My experience says that pointless arguments are caused by lack of factual data.

Personal experience and external facts are mandatory to them as if both are their main weapons. They demand precision and would never allow themselves committing the same mistakes. Shortly, they load their heads with factual and reasonable theories before they shoot their mouths.

INFP: I am silent not because I don’t care. I observe and relate what you feel. What you need is to be listened, though.

INFP always a good listener to everyone not only to the dear ones but also even to stranger. Problem is, people think they don’t listen because of their silence. They do, they even understand.

ISFP: I prefer to have group chat or group call  in my cozy room than attending a party.

Anti social yet craves for social interactions? It must be ISFP. They actually are good at communicating but they sometimes get nervous when they are involved in a too intense social situation which requires too much effort in interactions.

Well, that’s all folks for now. Another fiction is coming soon.

Previous post about extroverts is here

 

 

Posted in ENFJ, ENFP, ENTJ, ENTP, ESFJ, ESFP, ESTJ, ESTP, MBTI

MBTI Relatable Pick-Up Lines: The Extroverts

Well, it’s been a month of slumber, more or less. I am back with MBTI stuffs for awhile before another fiction comes up.

You might have ever wondered what type someone belongs to based on what he or she says or writes. Here are pick-up lines that might be related to particular MBTIs.

ENFP: I was thinking of black marshmallows that will turn into rainbow when I roast it. Sorry, what did you say? LOOK! AN AFRO GUY WITH HIS AFRO DOG!

They just unconsciously and continuously distracted either by what surrounds them, or even by their own thoughts. If you are afraid of sudden changes of topics during conversation or random urges during a trip, you’d better off.

ENTP: I didn’t argue. I explained my point of view and my ideas about changing the world.

Guys, we don’t mean to be offensive or sounds like an asshole when talking. We don’t argue. It is just the way we explain our overwhelmed ideas. More, pardon the jumpy changes of topics as well.

Sincerely,

An ENTP

ESTP: What? Sky Diving? Challenge Accepted!

They risk their lives for challenges because they crave for it and they literally enjoy the adrenaline rush. So, if you find someone rides all extreme rides without exception in a theme park over and over, maybe that person is an ESTP.

ESFP: We gotta make this project fun no matter how.

To make everything entertaining and fun is priority no matter how serious the situation is. Having them around will surely cheers up everyone except INTJ and ISTJ in serious mode.

ESFJ: Your door was open and what’s inside was a mess so I cleaned it up for you.

  1. That’s not actually a mess. That’s probably how that person arranges his or her stuffs.
  2. They will argue and say that you are not being thankful for saying point number 1. Sigh ESFJ.
  3. You will say thanks after all, so don’t think of saying point number 1. Keep it for yourself to avoid number 2.

P.S. : Mom’s knows best.

ENFJ: It is such a pleasure to help. Don’t mention, really.

They will always try to find a way in helping others and fight for everyone’s justice. They literally find happiness in helping others and seeing others happiness like ESFJ does. The difference perhaps they seldom force their methods on helping others. I present you the heroic protagonist, ENFJ.

ESTJ: This isn’t right. You know it should follow this given steps like it has been written on the manual!

These guys are some of the most obedient types among the 16. The combination of their dominant extroverted thinking and introverted sensing makes them natural rule enforcer and manual books followers. They won’t say a thing if they don’t have enough factual info about an issue.

ENTJ: I am the rules. Enough said.

Either you do it their way, or you go away. Enough said.

 

The introverts will follows on the next post.

 

 

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