MBTI types as creepy aesthetics
ENFJ: Your average suburban, middle-class American town, except everything is a little bit⌠off. All the houses look exactly the same. Everyone knows each other too well. Occasionally youâll overhear a child whispering something, or starting to cry, only for their parents to threaten something horrible and then act like everythingâs fine. And the smiles⌠everyone is always smiling.
ENFP: One day, you decide to stay for a while after church. You stay for 30 minutes. An hour. People are still talking. Eventually, they say itâs time. You follow them into the heart of the building, into a secret passageway, down, down. You arrive in a massive cavern. In the center is a statue of a heart, bright red and beating realistically. The people turn to you. âYouâre new here,â they say as they drag you toward the statue.
ENTJ: A clean, white room filled with medical equipment. The equipment is by no means dirty, but it doesnât seem normal either. You look down and realize youâre in a straitjacket. A man is standing above you, writing notes and talking to his colleagues using terms you donât understand. He pulls out a large needle and forcefully injects its contents into you. The last thing you see is him bringing something sharp to your limbs and beginning to saw.
ENTP: If you take your bike a little outside the city at a certain time of year, youâll arrive at a strange land surrounded by fences. Hop the fence and walk through the dust and youâll see the remains of a carnival. Everything is rusted and still; a reminder of the fun that was once had. Youâve never been here before, but you already miss it. You want to stay here. And the longer you look, the less abandoned the place seems.
ESFJ: She has the most beautiful voice. It sounds like crystals and feathers and pure light. You were granted the privilege of seeing her in person. You put on your best clothing and prepare to meet her. She is not a person at all, but a crystal angel. But through the clear crystal of her body, you see something. Inside her is a screaming child, screaming into a twisted mechanical tube, and out of the tube comes the beautiful song.
ESFP: Youâre in the sky. A synthesized voice tells you everything is alright. Youâre trying to remember what your life was like before, but you have no clue. You donât even know which way is down. The sun is too bright and there isnât a cloud in sight.
ESTJ: A basement that smells of potpourri. Other than a weird-looking clown doll, nothing here is actually creepy. But youâre on edge nevertheless. You feel like the door will suddenly lock, or someone will appear behind you. Every little thing makes you jump. But itâs just you, the doll, and that sickly floral scent.
ESTP: A glowing, labyrinth-like building. Itâs dark, and you can hardly see your hands, yet the objects around you continue to glow. Loud yet muffled music is blaring from somewhere. You feel like a rat in a maze. Something big is chasing you.
INFJ: Everyoneâs seen it. Everyoneâs talking about it. You donât know what theyâre going on about. It doesnât really interest you. One of your friends dragged you out to see it, but you got bored and left. Itâs kind of unnerving how everyone seems to think itâs the best thing ever. Suddenly you receive a letter from the government. It says you have to see it.
INFP: A forest where the pines whisper to each other and the crows see all. Things lurk beneath the waters, causing those who have done harm to quietly disappear. How much blood has been spilled on these lands?
INTJ:Â Bodies, hearts, souls trapped inside cold, hard hunks of metal. To simply turn oneâs head is agonizing. To talk it takes everything in you, and yet all that comes out is a wavering electronic tone vaguely resembling a voice. Very few dare enter the room that mechanical souls are kept in.
INTP: A buzzing from the sky that gradually becomes a roar as planes and blimps gather above the city. They drop down large balloons with unknown contents inside. The sun is bright and the air smells of chemicals⌠and bombs.
ISFJ: Welcome, dear, to Grandmotherâs Cottage. Would you like some tea? Iâll get you some tea. What are you looking at, dear? Oh, donât mind those mysterious red stains on my handmade dresses. I think it is time to invite my friends, the Masked Children. Donât they look adorable in those animal masks? You should try one on. Iâm sure it would look great on youâŚ
ISFP: Vintage advertisements with hyper-realistic drawings of children on them. You can hear a baby crying in the distance, but you donât know where itâs coming from. Rotting mystery meat is the center dish of todayâs meal, and everyone is surrounding you with toothy grins. Go on, take a biteâŚ
ISTJ: The cube is the only thing you can focus on. Itâs not normally visible unless you relax your eyes or squint a bit - then you can see the outline of, well, a cube. Itâs floating. What is it made of? It never stays long enough for you to find out. Nothing seems more interesting than that cube. The cube is your life now.
ISTP: Driving down the road at night. Itâs pitch black and you can barely see a thing, save for the reflective signs and occasional headlight from a passing car. Sometimes you think you see creatures in the corner of your vision, but itâs too dark to tell and youâre going too fast. You canât slow down. Itâs following you. Itâs been following you for hours. What will happen when you run out of gas?
germansingergirl
vaporwave
baratheonpilled
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jbbartram-illu
areudirty
yousharknotpass
