Once in college, in a fit of stupid, I dropped a lit match into a dormitory hallway garbage can before leaving for class. I was a hundred yards away when the fire alarm went off.
This was wrong on so many levels, I never told anyone about it ever... until now. To this day I still don't really know what possessed me to do such a thing.
(By the way, thankfully, no serious harm was done. The hallway was tile and concrete. Someone put out the trash can with a fire extinguisher and that was the end of it. The only damage was a little smoke on the ceiling.)
You know that actually doesn't surprise me at all...
You've talked to me enough though and you did that writing analysis on me. It's a side I try to lock a way very tightly with the inner child it replaced so most people who know me would probably have trouble believing it was ever there.
Dreams are best served manifest and tangible.
INFP, 6w7, IEI
I accept no responsibility, what so ever, for the fact that I exist; I do, however, accept full responsibility for what I do while I exist.
I'd put it as thing's I'd do that would shock those who knew me. As it is, my acquaintances (friends know better) perceive me to be this squeaky clean, super innocent 22 yr old. People that don't know I smoke socially actually gasp when I light up a cigarette in public... like I was doing a line of cocaine on the street or something... and those that do know of my smoking always tell me it looks wrong when I smoke. I think all I need is a halo and wings and the image is complete. I'm not happy about that... though it does have its benefits.
Now, if it weren't for my conservative parents, my religion and, my line of work (or rather the one I'm skidding sideways into in some months) where a professional image is valued, I'd have 10 tattoos, red hair, a few piercings and a massive afro.