Based on results generated by several popular online surveys, the unique, thoughtful, and talented creature known as the "introvert" makes up a whopping 93% of the earth's human population. But if you don't find yourself within this slice of the planet's most thoughtful and sensitive creations, don't despair; the following tips will help you, the filthy, self-aggrandizing extrovert, understand their intelligent and understated ways.
The cunning introvert, largely too bright for most segments of humanity, tends to find solace in loneliness. In fact, it's very common for your standard introvert to go days, weeks, months, or even years without speaking to another soul. If this should happen to your introvert, don't panic. They will eventually emerge--traditionally with a long, scraggly beard--once their closets and crawlspaces run out of room to hold jars of urine and feces. Though they may suffer from severe vitamin D deficiencies and general grumpiness, these extended sabbaticals are simply part of the introvert's downtime. And should your introvert attempt to injure any "interlopers" via the use of improvised booby traps, calmly explain to the injured party your friend's problems with social anxiety. Depending on the severity of their injuries, these strangers should be forgiving and non-litigious.
Often, the inventive introvert doesn't need to turn to other human beings for companionship. They can often carry on long, elaborate conversations with ordinary objects like The Bible, common animals like ordinary dogs, and even everyday news anchors on the television! Should they receive "orders" from these inanimate objects, don't worry; instead, think of this as an opportunity for them to be self-actualized about meeting goals. Whether said goals involve getting very close to the President, or finding out where your city's water supply comes from, let them be. Though you may not understand their intentions, the important thing is they're getting out into the world and maybe, just maybe, meeting new and interesting people.
While extroverts commonly waste their free moments with base activities like drinking, partying, and sexual intercourse, the introvert takes his or her limited time on this earth much more seriously. That said, if you want to nurture their sense of well-being, avoid interrupting whatever's happening behind your introvert's extensively padlocked doors. Though the shrill whine of power drills and wet sawing noises may have you fearing for their safety, introverts tend to start long, elaborate projects in secret to keep their minds busy. If your introvert finds his or herself involved in one of these undertakings, cooperate as best you can. For example, agree to have all of those pressure cookers delivered to your house, and if they need a series of holes dug in their backyard, agree to do it with no questions asked. Above all, you'll want to be sure you don't make it onto one of their several lists.
Often, introverts won't rely on common, human speech to communicate their ideas. Instead, they often resort to notebook upon notebook, describing the conditions that must happen for the ideal state of the world to come into being. While some of the consequences of this goal may alarm you, know that introverts do not react well to the peer review process. Instead, offer constructive criticism, and take it upon yourself to spell check their work before it's sent out to several newspapers. In the end, do you want your introvert friend to be known as the person who foretold a "grate clensing?"
Given that their lifestyles are so unorthodox and unique, the living habits of introverts will differ much from your own. What seems unclean to you is simply beneath the processing power of the superior introvert brain, meaning that hollowed-out animal carcasses and unidentified, leathery hides are just as common as your extrovert beer bongs and sex blankets. If the musky odors grow too overpowering for your senses, covertly spritz some Febreze into the air whenever your introvert sprints to the windows to suspiciously peer through the blinds.
How many days has it been? 10? 20? The memory of moisture is a ghost upon your tongue. The manacles continue their unending journey into the recesses of your weakened flesh. A car idles outside. A whisper of hope visits you briefly. If a scream could escape your withered throat, would they even hear you? A door slams, silence. It's him. You laugh and think of Becky. If anyone would outlast you, it was supposed to be her. Yet what used to be Becky sits in a heap, mocking you with vacant, jellied eyes. Another door, then the steady hum of a generator. You saw what it did to her--it will do the same to you. The moment you most feared is now what you most desire. As it happens, two thoughts cross your shattered mind.
Beware the introvert. Fear the introvert.
This libtard terminator keeps asking for guns that don't exist and I may have to close early out of frustration.
Editor's Note: Due to a freak power outage, this obituary of Barbara Bush was written without the benefit of research. In order to pay our respects to this great woman in a timely fashion, we have decided to post this piece as-is. We hope you forgive any errors on our part.
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