Cocktails with Jecy

 I’ve said cocktail because the alternative would have been rainbow. I may be a jolly good conglomeration of cells but I sure as hell ain't that mesmerizing. Rainbows come after storms. I don’t. Sometimes I’m actually the storm. To begin with, I am absolutely not a morning person. I would be a morning person if morning happened around midday. You know people say you don’t need an alarm, your passion will wake you up? I don’t.  I am a happy soul constantly punctuated by bouts of depression and anxiety, you know, like that sunshine that brings no warmth. I chase sunsets. I’m a night owl. At that time, a time my grandma insists the demons are at work, the creative juices flow better than Octopizzo's lyrics.
I overthink everything. That is my weakness. I over worry. My mind works overtime all the time. I am the P in passionate, even when it’s clear I’m trying to fill my pot with a sieve. I push. Even when I can’t, I push.
I love classical music. The stringed instruments are just about the only things that set my soul on fire. That and a good read.
I am old school, self-conscious on a molecular level and super sentimental. I literally feel every emotion. I get hurt by the tiniest actions and words. So you’ve probably figured out I have the ability to turn on the waterworks in a matter of seconds. SMH, big baby syndrome.
I’m a homebody who also likes the outdoors. Some mornings I’m an ambitious bitch with an insatiable hunger for power and money, other days, it takes heaven itself to just get me out of bed.
I am TERRIBLE at keeping time. I’m literally late for everything. I have tried every trick in the book, but it seems this is my actual Achilles heel.
I love the smell of rain and old books. I watch the stars. I’m not a pet kinda girl and I absolutely adore babies. I like making friends, but I’m scared of starting conversations. I hate feeling like a bother. I’m authoritative, but in a mama bear kind of way. My siblings hate me for this.  I am full of love and fear in equal measure. Fear control s most of what I do sometimes.
“Why is he being nice to me? Maybe he wants to steal me and lock me up in a dungeon in his basement. “
“Stop running, you’re gonna fall and die."
"Don’t wear that, it makes you look fat."
"Don’t talk like that, you’ll hurt his feelings. Then he’ll be a sad man who growls at children and kicks chicken out of bitterness"
"Don’t tell them shit about yourself, they’re just gonna laugh about you tomorrow"
These are the kind of conversations that run in my head all day. I can’ even finish describing myself, the same way you can never quite figure out all the tastes in a cocktail.
Someday, when I stop being so afraid, when ill close my eyes and let go, that day maybe I’ll get a taste of freedom.
But today is not that day.