Reaping the bitter harvest.


This, I commented here, earlier today.  When the sun was newly bright and the day young and the weekend still retained glorious distance form the quagmire of stupidity and ignorance that is rung in brutally every Monday morning by my regular clock-in.


This morning I wrote:


I lose sight of how deeply that is a part of my psyche and how inadvertent my displays of it. I tend to mystify the lack of reciprocal kindness or attention, but really, it’s as simple as “you reap what you sow”


in response to a comment on my “PUA rules do not apply to me post” from yesterday.   The comment,


Nothing beats that INTJ ‘leave me the fuck alone stare’.



Why of course, this is it.


Everyone knows about this, they humbly, proudly, even smugly, hide behind it, conveniently drawing  the veil of MBTI results as a cover, a measure not quite accepted or humored on many fronts. Still, for all its dubious accuracy, many resort to it, especially the introverts and the INTJ’s. In fact, when I took the test of a few years ago, I scored a resounding “INTJ” personality type. It’s amusing, in that astrological vein, to compare oneself to MBTI’s Jungian test results while comparing/constrasting them to your personality.


I must say that the INTJ personality type does seem to fit me quite well, but I wonder if I’m guilty of drawing the bulls-eye around the arrow or if in fact this shit is “true.”


Anyways. Most INTJ’s seem to pride themselves on being asocial, condescending misanthropes. They boast of their “INTJ stare” which translates roughly to a glare, a stony, blackened peering, smoldering appraisal which warns, socially moat-like to all who would enter: “do not cross that bridge, do not approach me.”


I never thought of myself as having that “stare” but sometimes it makes utter sense.


Perhaps it has ingratiated itself so fully into my aura, my essence, that I fail to realize its power and magnificence and in my daily journey, I display it in such odious amounts with so little effort that I have lost the ability to even be conscious of it. It’s like taking breaths.


I watch my gf in action.


She is a hardcore introvert, like I, but she is a kind, humble participant. She gives people the benefit of the doubt and concerns herself with them and their stupid lives. People enjoy talking to her, or trying. She evokes conversation. She locks eyes and something in her vocal tone, her inflection, her expression, seems to perpetuate a conversational vulnerability I do not possess.


People don’t even talk to me.  They don’t try, especially those I know from work or other facets of my life which bring me in regular contact with the same cast of characters, the ones who know, by now, that I am a socially repressed ingrate who hates them, as I hate all.


My gf though.


I envy the magnetism and social involvement she triggers despite her spectacular introversion.


She likes people, or acts of she does. I ceased pretending a long time ago and I apparently do not contain my feelings even though I refrain from uttering them aloud.


Related, a commenter wrote, on my Is Ted Cruz’s daughter autistic? post, a possible basis of my misanthropic personality:



Adults with high functioning autism, like Asperger’s, are often disliked and shunned by their peers. Not because of malevolence, but because the person with Asperger’s has treated other people harshly, and completely without empathy. This is why so many people close to Cruz completely distain him, and have stated so publicly.


As I’ve aged, I’ve loosened that self-presevertional grip on that rude iota of a personality that prevents me from being an egregious asshole for the sake of politics. I just let it show. I scowl, I tell strangers how I feel when I’m having a bad morning (or any morning), and I roll my eyes, makes faces all the time. I suspect my behavior has not changed much since the day of my birth with the exception that its expression has become more flagrant.


I am reaping…