I am writing. I am writing because my mind does not function the way it normally does, my heart beats way faster than it should, and the whole of me silently whispers to my ear, in the most bizarre way possible, "you need diagnosis."
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I don't even understand why this limbo in my head seem to be at par with my first encounter with love (and probably anything which deals with dopamine) and as clueless as I was when I first stepped in the corporate world. If this is good or bad, I'm not sure.
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Analyze. I admit to be a species belonging to Kingdom Overanalytical. And now, with what's left of my lunch break, I'll try to understand, from head to toe, what is goin in on this subjective humanity of mine, through writing.
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First, my head. My brain is suggesting last night's experience to be the culprit of this incomprehensible feeling. It was a first. I'm not particularly your typical innocent and inexperienced sort, and sexual things don't really faze me. But I didn't realize how surreal the experience is until it came right in front of me, like, literally. I wasn't even able to shut my system down until 3 AM just thinking of it all. Shock, plus sleeplesness may be a valid reason for this.
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Second, my heart. All right, I'm mushy mushy empathic/sympathetic (pathetic) that I have this tendency to become a naive and gullible douche sometimes. But I just can't help but feel concern for these people. I mean, they can pass for a modeling stint with those good looks and all, but why? But yeah, that's me and we are in a practical world. I even asked "Jay" from "Agusan", what the weirdest thing a customer has done to him. I felt sooooo sad when he said "usahay ipa all-the-way ka nya yab-an ug labayan pa gyud kag beer. Kanang bastos lang kaayo ba. Pero trabaho lang man ning amo. Bahala na lang among manager kung unsa man." (Sometimes they would make you go all the way, throwing and pouring beer at you while you're at it. I just feel humiliated. But that's part of the work and we'll just let the manager do whatever it is that's needed to be done.)
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Actually, they knew the business well, and have come (maybe) to love it. Well, maybe I just have to perceive it like they are medreps selling medications. Works the same anyway. Just buy them "men's drink" which is actually just beer with an additional table fee, and there go their tips for the night.
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Third, my eyes. I'm human people, come on. Good looking and buff, self-explanatory. Buuuut I'm still a girl (with values and virtues taught in GMRC) who knows the importance of caution and "waiting for the right person and time". (char) Not being defensive. Just, a little bit.. defensive.
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Fourth, in contrast to the third, is my soul. I felt a little guilty. Like my id and superego doing sumo wrestling. Or something of that sort.
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Yeah, so this whole analysis may be the answer to my (non) comprehension. I actually feel a whole lot better now. Awareness is key.
