Someone across the room has an emotion. Suddenly, you feel the emotion as if it was your own. It is your emotion now. Was there ever a time when it wasn’t?
Everyone calls you “mom,” even your own mom. You are a mom because all ENFJs are moms. Even your ENFJ friend who is a 17-year-old boy. He too is a mom.
A classmate is online. You are gripped with the urge to ask them about their problems. You can tell they have problems. Everyone has problems. “Do you want to talk about it?” you ask. It’s 12:07 a.m. You haven’t slept in months.
You sit down and realize that the girl sitting in front of you thinks she is your best friend. So does the boy to your right. Everyone in this class thinks they are your best friend. You have no best friend. What is a best friend? You can’t remember.
You can’t comprehend why people get annoyed when you meddle in their lives. Can’t they see how much of a better job you would do?
You sit in silence, streams of tears running down your face. “What’s wrong with them?” someone whispers behind you. “Nothing,” someone else replies. “They’re an ENFJ. ENFJs are never sad.” You are never sad. These are tears of joy.
Someone asks if you can volunteer at the animal shelter. You’re allergic to all animals, and you open your mouth to say “no,” but no sound comes out. The word “no” no longer exists in your vocabulary. You scream. No one can hear you. “Of course,” you say.
You bring cupcakes to church every Sunday. You are an atheist, but it doesn’t matter.
You can only process the world through emotions because you are incapable of logical thought. Everything is an emotion now. You look down at your math homework; it too, has transformed into emotions. You begin to laugh hysterically. You are so happy.
Everyone you know is an INFP. You see someone on the street who you remember is an ESTP. “Thank God,” you say. “I haven’t talked to a non-INFP in ages.” He looks at you blankly and explains he is an INFP. He has always been an INFP. You know him, therefore he is INFP.
You can never be alone. Everything you know about yourself is derived from other people. While you’re in the bathroom by yourself, you forget your name. Who are you, again? You look in the mirror and see the reflection of everyone you’ve ever known, and you smile in relief. There you are.
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