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  1. #21
    Senior Member MoneyTick's Avatar
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    May 2010


    Chaos … a cloud of fire, a troubled sea, a blast from the suddenly opened gate of a furnace, yet immaterial as a dream. Yes, like wounded stags we’ve all fallen like dead leaves at its boundless thresholds.

    Well, FunnyDigestion, your inquiry is entangled in paradox. Consider deeply for a moment my drunken riddle …

    To lead, or not to lead?

    To lie down in green pastures,
    Gazing deep into the torn figments of the infinite,
    Behold: the unrolling panorama of dreams!
    Impressing a soothing touch gently upon your soul,
    Receiving with gratitude the answering glow of life’s simplest pleasures?

    Or to arise at the blast of trumpets blown in wars,
    And like an icy wave of swift and tragic impression,
    Raising your fist of supreme authority,
    To demolish the fences crafted by the astute hand of orthodoxy?

    Ah, and with this divergent comparison a new doubt assails you!

    A true leader is one whose soul is invested with the principles of humanitarianism and the supremacy of good. A leader is the dazzling star glimmering in the darkness, as an alleyway left ajar into some world unseen before, inviting all to join a virtuous undertaking. Such is the hallmark of leadership; climbing those unfamiliar trails, laden with the keen sense of mystery, until you're surrounded by an air of stern, deep, and irredeemable triumph at the crowning summit. That, my friend, is true leadership.

    Ahhh … and with my final gulp of scotch, I shall begin my bibulous diversion into my concluding remarks…

    As an INFP, FunnyDigestion, you have the introversion to contemplate those profound concepts, as vague as a dream! As an introvert, you’re not obliged to the monotony of conformity; you’re arrested by the spacious sense of life's possibilities!

    Your intuition, your silent guide, at your command to lead you down roads you’ve dreamt of before.

    Your feelings: a canvas of bright colors, portraying the tranquil panorama of those bright, silvery mornings unveiled from the fathomless blackness of dawn.

    Perceiving: the sparkling and spontaneous nature of your vibrant self, free from the hard chains of structure and order, like a lynx – curious; relived from the stressful sickness of self-imposed obligation.

    Who better to lead a righteous cause, the best cause, than a vibrant INFP?

    Or would you rather mimic the cold, brooding characteristics of an NTJs menacing demeanor?

    NTJs thrive in the corporate world, as workaholics – our only true encounter with life’s splendor is when under the spell of aged scotch and good ale as I am.

    Only at present, can I realize that that life is best lived now, as opposed to working overtime for a better tomorrow. INFPs lead the world outside of work, the real world, the world we see through glass windows whilst sitting behind desks with phones to our ears; our hearts throbbing like the jack-hammering of pneumatic machinery as the NASDAQ plummets.

    Ahh, every fucking day I spin those webs of falsehoods, selling bullshit equities to the moneyed-purses of the unwary. I orchestrate those shrewd instruments, each independent of one another, in playing a splendid tune on the false premises of inflated promises.

    I don’t care to enjoy the blissful rainbow; I lead the battalion in robbing the pot of gold at the end of its spectrum, like a cunning fox, racing to find its prey. That’s corporate leadership …

    If you bear the blessed title of being an INFP, do not give your ear to that false glory, be a leader of your own kind … Leadership is not the treacherous throb of one's voice, but the echo of your character, reverberating fervently in the ears of those nigh.

    As my mind remains immersed in those childish chortles of thought, I cannot know whether I’ve satisfied your inquiry coherently, but consider it my prologue on assimilating the characteristics of leadership. You must learn how to shuffle compromise between audacity and prostration, a fever of confusion indeed, but a thesis for when my mind is more sober.

    I can’t wait to read this in the morning; a rush of tonight's memories as a remedy for tomorrow's hangover! Ha! A figment of a drunken poet's fancy, as medicine for those throat-rasping gulps of Irish scotch.
    Last edited by MoneyTick; 07-03-2011 at 02:33 PM.
    got chaos?

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