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Feel free to read my posts. You would find some kind of long winding narrative with consistent characters from my life used to illustrate concepts.


Of course some of it is just vapid self indulgence, but maybe some of it is entertaining.

I am one of the storyteller ISFP instead of the painter or photographer.
 

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I kicked this ball once. It hit a tree trunk, bounced off it, then hit my little sister square in the face. It was glorious.

I also once tried climbing the CVS pharmacy that sat in front of my house when I was like 8. My neighbor caught me doing it and questioned my motives from across the street. I told him I was trying to hone my tree climbing skills. He asked me why didn't I just climb a tree then. I told him the trees were too little (they were actually huge oak trees around my house, but I didn't know what else to say). In all honesty, I didn't want to to tell him that my main motive was to capture birds' nests. I had an obsession with birds and no, I was not willing to tell that to my neighbor this because I'm pretty sure he was going to lecture me on blah blah blah.

I'm a lame storyteller and I'm not even sure if I'm an ISFP. Why am I even here
 

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One time my friend kept saying he always slips on ice during the winter. Then I said i never slip. Then a couple days later when we were walking to school I slipped and fell. He laughed hysterically while cars were driving by. I tried to play it off by doing sit-ups. Jk, I just stood up and said "That was embarrassing."
 

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Discussion Starter #8
One time my friend kept saying he always slips on ice during the winter. Then I said i never slip. Then a couple days later when we were walking to school I slipped and fell. He laughed hysterically while cars were driving by. I tried to play it off by doing sit-ups. Jk, I just stood up and said "That was embarrassing."
I just stood on a stone slopped railing in a amphitheater by my dorms. I thought I was pretty cool, until one of my poorly-gripped shoes slid and fell rather ungraciously to the ground. Somehow I managed to fall standing normally, so I gave a mischievous smile and went about doing real things.
 

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I just stood on a stone slopped railing in a amphitheater by my dorms. I thought I was pretty cool, until one of my poorly-gripped shoes slid and fell rather ungraciously to the ground. Somehow I managed to fall standing normally, so I gave a mischievous smile and went about doing real things.
Idk why but imagining that in my head is really funny to me XD
 

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Storytelling for me is hit or miss. I really suck generally. Usually cause I choke up on my own laughter.

Trick is I really have to be into the story being told, and premeditated it a little in the sense that I have to search my feelings about it. Writing is helpful as a medium.

Once when I was about 8, my family and I were staying in a hotel in some city. Us kids were left in the room while my parents went out for an hour or so. My three older siblings were talking about a subject I didn't understand or something, and I kept trying to get them to involve me. They eventually huddled and so I told them that if they didn't tell me and include me that I would moon the whole street below from our hotel rooms sliding glass door (it was one of those kind of hotels where every room opens to a big balcony -- anyone can walk by all the rooms' big glass doors). Well, they ignored or didn't hear me. So I, a great mooning enthusiast, went over to the door, pulled the curtains aside and stuck my little bum to that glass, waved it around. They finally paid attention to me: but too late. My parents arrived just at that moment, approximately (although my siblings tell me some guy went by first).

Yes, I got in trouble. But they should have seen it coming! What with my unhealthy appreciation for mooning that they all knew about...

I guess I did it really because I wanted in that situation to appear as something else besides just a whiny little sister and baby. Because I despised that role. I would be something none of them ever dared! I could do big things too!

Oh dear, I can just see the look on their faces: disbelief and amusement. And a certain kind of jealousy even. Or rather, I feel what I felt when I did see the look on their faces... Right before I turned around in horror at my parents' angry faces.

I got us all in some trouble but we all thought it was funny anyway. Except maybe one of them. The goodie two-shoes.

I'm pretty sure that was the last time I mooned anyone.

We had been eating pizza out of the box while they were gone...

I want pizza. :(
 

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This is not an exciting story, but it's a story and I feel like posting.

Edit: I deleted it. It really wasn't exciting. sorry :)
 

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The only time I ever cheated on anyone.

I was in a two year relationship with a guy I met in high school, Kevin. He started acting different. His true side started showing but I stayed. He was most likely a sociopath. Due to his behavior I went on a vacation to my hometown on Long Island to spend time with my old best friend for a week. While there I ran into my ex, Mike. We only broke up because we lived in different states. He was actually a respectful, nice, & understanding guy. He was easy to talk to &
I didn't feel like I was walking on eggshells like I did with my boyfriend at the time. I kept bonding with my Mike while I was still fighting with Kevin. I ended up sleeping with Mike. I told Kevin what happened when I returned & he was pissed at first but then said he understands why I felt unloved & we stayed together, got married, then divorced 2 years later.
 

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I don't think I have much stories about things I did. But more experiences or situations that my friends did that I was near by or involved lol.

I'll give it a try. I thought this was funny . Note: My friend is very talkative and tends to speak before she thinks, quite often.

My friend and I went to Merida, MX for the first time in 2012 for two months. Neither of us knew Spanish at that time but we didn't care. One time our new friend Jehu was explaining to her that it common between 2 or 3 males that are close friends in Mexico, they give each other nicknames to call each other by. Like between 3 of guy friends one get called a rooster, another a turkey and a 3rd one like maybe a duck in Spanish. My friend was interested in learning more, so she asked him, "Say what if a male or a female were close friends or like you and I were close friends, what can I call you?" He replied," You can call me El Guapo." My friend didn't know what El Guapo means in English but liked the Spanish word so she started calling him El Guapo all night and the next day. It took her till a few days later while watching a Batman movie that had English subtitles in the movie theater to learn what El Guapo means in English (El Guapo= The Handsome). Once she learned. She said, "Oooh that Jehu is going to get it. El Guapo means Handsome, I can't believe it." I replied: "I would of known to get it translated first before saying it." lol
 

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I'm good at telling stories too. The ones I remember. I have a knack for timing. I can make people laugh with it. If you want me to tell you a story, I am open to do so, but I would rather do it in real time. So over voice or discord or something. (Typing in real time works)
 

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I was walking home from work one night. I just came off a double shift and my legs hurt and I was very tired and hungry. Despite this, I just wanted to be left to my own thoughts and feel the late night breeze on my face and hair. Usually, when I walk home at night, I walk down Main Street and then turn onto Dove Street. Both are well lit. But that night I was inpatient and decided to cut through the alley between Royal Pharmacy and Kick'em Red Wings. There was a parking lot on the other side that saved me a few minutes tops when I crossed, but it was very dark and all of the stores were closed. I decided to cut across anyways.

As I passed through the end of the alleyway and began to cross the parking lot I noticed some shadows moving on the far end where the dumpster is. I stopped in my tracks and looked a little harder. Something was bent over pulling something. It looked suspicious. Then I saw it. It was a man and he was dragging what looked like a large sack toward the dumpster. He started lifting it into the air and I could tell he was struggling. Whatever it was, it was really heavy. He was just about to get it over the top of the dump when it fell from his grips and hit the asphalt with a loud thud. Then it was when I saw an arm swing out from inside the sack. It was a body! The hair stood up on the back of my neck. I started to back up slowly when my feet made a scraping sound on some loose gravel. The man looked up. He looked right at me. Then, he started running toward me.

I turned around and ran as fast as I could. I sprinted for a good few minutes without turning around. I stopped, gasping for air. I turned around and saw nothing. No one. I took out my cell phone and dialed 911. I explained what I saw. They told me to stay where I was and they were sending a couple of police officers.

Those were the longest few minutes of my life. The police came, took me home, and asked for my account of what happened. I read in the paper the next day that there was a woman found dead behind that alley. She was raped and strangled to death. The DNA test that was later done failed to identify anyone. The man was never caught. He is still out there and sometimes during the day I walk by that place and remember what happened that night and it sends a chill up my spine everytime. But sometimes, I get out late from work I call a cab so I don't have to walk by that place by myself in the dark. Screw that.

Worse of all. I know that man is still out there and I'm afraid he knows who I am and he'll find me someday and kill me when I least expect it. When I'm alone and in the dark.
 
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