Written By: Ash Catcher
Hello, hello! It’s Wednesday yet again, this week I wanted to share some of the most outlandish books that I have come to own in the past 30 years on this space cake of a rock. Currently I have "an office” in my house and I say that loosely because as of May I have been working outside remotely on my back deck getting hecka tan- but in this office happens to be uhhhh like 3 bookshelves and I have two in my room currently. I just got back my big one finally and gave her a stellar paint job. She is saged and ready to get more books put on her! I cannot wait to acquire more.
Most of my shelves are categorized by genre loosely- but instead of my records - alphabetical and genre - if I really need a cookbook I know that is going to be kept on the bookshelf closest to the kitchen. Or… are they up and in my room. I’ll have to check on that. Okay so in no particular order I randomly chose a book off of each bookshelf!
Written By: Ash Catcher
Photograph Credit: Photodelphia, LLC Harley Maile
Happy Wednesday! If you are just starting to read these things, Hi welcome, I am Ash, and I guess some people would call me a writer/artist what have you. If you have been reading for the past 2 years of me doing this… go the fuck outside this article can wait but that sun serotonin is gonna hit you so much better than this blog post ever could, I promise you that!
Breaking up with Booze: Breaking up with anyone, or in this case anything is never easy, and addiction is not either. It's a weird awkward unspoken relationship with yourself that with the assistance of alcohol seems to just make that person staring back at you in the mirror a bit more palatable. I need it to feel better about myself, or I need it to not be so shy- whatever your logic is its pretty apparent that if you’re building up a tolerance the worse its going to be when you do decide to redact alcohol and just fuck off into the woods cause you can kiss your social life good fucking bye. You’re going to want to spend a few days or weeks… years getting a grip on yourself more or less. I know people that are 20 years sober and I know people that are 20 mins sober. It can vary quite a bit regardless life these days doesn’t just seem unbearable I can see people I have know for years deteriorate infant of me live on IG or Facebook daily- So far in 2022 alone I have lost 5 people to addiction, that averages about 1 person a month- very unsettling.
Dating and Not Drinking: “Lets go and grab a drink.” Oh actually sorry I cant…… won’t? I am not sure when I came to realize a few tings about dating but the one thing I found was that meeting up for coffee because like a thing of the past- coffee is usually a safe bet because its in the middle of the day and its uh… well its not fucking alcohol. I used to get really defensive and uptight when someone would ask me to meet them for a drink. But now I usually just accept it, skip the soap box, talk about why I cut alcohol and meet up at the bar anyway. When they see me order a cranberry seltzer without the vodka- oh boy do they get a little taken aback. Sorry I am not gonna get sloppy drunk, and come back home with you- I am not sure what about me screams that. I have to get up early in the morning, I never stop working. I do appreciate their efforts, but its a huge turn off and I’ll be very honest Ill never see your stupid ass again if you ask me to spend my time at a bar. I did that already- I am not looking to lose another 10 years of my life thanks. Is that temptation still there, oh boy you bet I just know myself better and would rather not wake up in a dryer again.
Isolation Hermit Mode Activated: I am never invited to parties where people are drinking- and I am saving a lot of time and money wasting my energy on intoxicated people. Lately I have actually barely been interacting with people face to face. Quite honestly I am not sure if this was a COVID thing or not but people drain the living life force out of me- like I need to drink hella amounts of water and reach for that special eye cream that one lady swore on at Terrain. It's just draining, and it happened shortly after I stopped numbing myself with alcohol- like I didn’t drink often but once I started I rarely wanted to stop. So it took maybe like three bad nights and I was like hmmm maybe I need to change some behaviors. There was also that one week a few years back where I kept getting drinks that were drugged. I wasn’t surrounded with the best people at the time, and in retrospect I was trying to maybe prove something by ordering an Oatmeal Stout in the middle of the summer but hey- makes for a great story and a little light rambling. I am not telling you what to do with your life. We all have vices, mine are just getting a bit more niche then a few glasses of rose and being hungover the next day, I am opting more for acid and a migraine. Level up!
Sobering Up, and Switching Out: redirection and rehabbing your habits: I think professionals say it takes anywhere from 30 to 90 days to break a habit. I am super thankful that just like when I stopped smoking that I automatically knew I could fall back on running- runner's high is a legit thing and while it doesn’t replace the feeling of having a few beers after a hard day- that shit is well like all this stuff addicting. I love running- lately walking and I am super happy I live in a place where it is pedestrian friendly, I know it's not logical or practical to take 2 hours out of your day to go for a walk but even 20 minutes of movement is technically 20 more minutes more than what you did before you started. Just keep moving. So Cheers, with some cranberry juice ( appropriately sweetened) and some seltzer. I am always here for my friends and family - anyone for that matter that wants to talk about cutting out alcohol.
Cheers you degenerates I better see you next Wednesday!
A Little Tower Moment
Written By: Ash Catcher
Salutations psychotics masterminds!
Power play with me till I bleed across your social constructed operating table - I mean middle school cafeteria.
Pull my heartstrings like taffy till my organs are past my knees.
Down on the floor- now I may not come off as sentimental in the least
But this nasty scar that runs past my veins and has begun to AOL slowly drip dry download into my overworked heart
This shit hurts, I am tired of aching, I am stretched so thin I keep visibly shaking.
It's been ripped apart before, dismantled for others amusement- but this time seems different.
Does love ( for others and for myself) require an ethernet cable to upload efficiently?
Because this shit is taking forever.
And some days my alignment and frequency are too high to come off my ego driven show.
So involved and aware why I do things- I am my only critic and advisory.
Always dishing advice out, but starving myself when it comes to taking it.
I would rather procrastinate and over think.
Make the small things seem extra big each week.
And then the subtle familiarity creeps in…
You dematerialized at dinner, and I started to dissociate, like my 160+ gigs of music on my iPod Touch gone in an instant.
Fuck now what am I gonna listen to now?
Who will manipulate all these strings coming out of my back?
More importantly, are we still having pancakes for breakfast tomorrow?
I try to fill this black hole up- but I think the cement I am using must be expired.
Nothing plugs up this nothingness- It's growing, but not infinite that would be overreacting.
You just love overreacting- nope that is just me finally expressing how I feel of years of silence.
I’ll be the judge of who is hysterical.
I’ll just show you a fuck ton of indifference; there that should do it.
I hate feeling so salty.
Everything breaks easily, I always hurt.
I don’t feel like leaving my house most days.
I am manifesting something better- looking at some places in the deserts.
I can't do another winter here- it may just damn near obliterate me.
Looking at other avenues, maybe I'll end up floating in The Dead Sea.
Only slightly terrified of what I want to do next.
Hoping for some positivity- obsessed with space lately, and solar apexes.
S. N. A. P.
Written By: Ash Catcher
I went thrifting, and to a few cafes.
By myself, lately I had a bunch of treat-you self days.
I Stepped up to the counter to place my order.
Got overwhelmed with the menu, that is just my anxiety disorder.
Managed to stutter to the pretty cashier:
“I’ll have an Americano please.” It was good but not like my old spot in Revere.
The small one looked really big, but that is America for you.
Kinda wish I didn’t give my cousin my holographic ancient MEW.
Ash, dial back to thrifting, I found myself making a bee line to a pile of pictures.
All of the other times, and peoples families, willing to bet my childhood allowance they all knew their scriptures.
All the backs date back to the 60s techno color, pastel substitutional urbs.
All the men, mad looking as hell- like they could all be my grandpa- or on the cover of Forbes.
One I found I called her Gertie, she looked like some psychedelic plant lady- and I saw myself in her indeed.
If we make it past 2050, you best bet I want to be just like that saint, total galactic babe, and star-seed.
Pictures of people used to scare me as a kid.
I didn’t understand at first of all the places that have been.
Time traveling is possible and it can all be contained in a thrifted box.
Of photos of dead people- they probably knew where to get the best bagels and lox.
I have to say some days I am jealous, but I would never wear those skirts.
I would be rocking killer pant suits- I would be that radical bitch in the 60’s in shorts.
All it takes is a snap, something from nothing that beautiful overused line.
A blip in the Matrix, a single moment in your timeline.
Then you start to fuck with the settings, and thats when reality is done.
The perspective and exposure is all off- way too much sun!
S.ingle lens, so I can still sprawl out in the middle of my bed. Cat cornered me, judging me silently like I am up for a performance review.
N.oise, there is way too much collective humming for me to even hear you.
A.perture, it can be a little hard to crack that cancer crabby shell. Not a lot of light or people come in.
P. Oint and Shoot, hyper focusing, and going M. I. A in the middle of the day. Love and hate when people touch my skin.
I am not the best at being present.
Half the time I am not here- borderline fluorescent.
Eyes like lenses, taking way too much in.
Socializing is great, but I like being alone a little more now and recharging.
Written By: Ash Catcher
Panic stricken, jerked out of my dream-like state.
Fluid filled the bottom of my left leg- this is why I don't skate.
I feel it every second now, the breakdown of my physical body.
I would tell you all about it, but my voice has been a tad bit froggy.
Going back and fourths, seeing some new demons and dimensions.
Not sure what I am striving for these days but I have abandoned all apprehensions.
This meat sack wants a promotion, I feel like I am like three times my age.
I've lived through shit most people cannot comprehend, the queen of disengage.
Been waking up at all hours, the most prevalent ones are all before noon.
Questioning what is real these days, is that really a real cup and spoon?
The realizations, and downloads- that we are all interconnected.
Interwoven coven, it is insane how much one is dissected.
Life is just a series of reel idolizations.
It repetitively repeats itself- the same season after season.
The same characters just have a different plot.
I don't blame people for wanting to leave this place and become a commercial cosmonaut.
It seems so fabricated and scripted.
The laugh track in my head is depicted.
As my second grade class, Ms. Harris toppling over us.
That's something I need to pack still, but I am not willing to discuss.
So much to do always, but what does it all matter in the end.
I've lost myself so much along the way, I am my only friend.
I am tired of doing everything- I am sick of working and cleaning my house.
Fighting over dumb fucking shit “ I am sorry for being insensitive if I say this but can you man up and dispose of that mouse.”
This time around the 30th try of playing the game entitled 365.
I Felt reckless the other day, chugged a kombucha and started gardening barehanded.
I am trying to numb out responsibly, cause I have a shit ton of things to keep alive.
But those vices are a bitch to quit, and my morals reroute like Route 66, but I won’t allow myself to decline. [again]
Just edging, teasing, toying with the thought of leaving it all up to probability.
Math was never my strongest subject, all my life labeled a walking liability.
Moving on hasn’t been easy but I am pretty good at adapting.
My motives are always genuine, that is why I know that you are acting.
Ketchup seems arbitrary, this hot dog was never real-
Socializing what's the point? Notoriously the fifth wheel.
It is cheaper to get an 8th of shrooms than fill up my gas tank.
I'll travel in my head again, I am not trying to break the bank.
Written By: Ash Catcher
Spiritually sour, semi split in two.
Don't count yourself as one of us- especially if you’re into IPA brews.
It's something in the air, but goes just beyond the explanation.
Been about the 6th time this week someone has said my wrong name.
It’s not that hard to say, just three stupid fucking words.
Why am I suddenly suffering from massive FOMO and always in the burbs.
Searching for something I am not exactly sure just what.
Nothing new to report, aside from some occults worshiping chestnuts.
Never had a bat mitzvah.
Just hopelessly obsessed with bats.
Was always stoked to sit shiva.
But constantly crying when my cat kills a mouse.
Putting the competition in total opposition.
Both a little grim and spooky, all about superstition.
Not much difference between how I grew up and where I am headed.
But I feel aware and tapped, trapped in this 3rd Dimension.
(If you have a moment I would be happy to share my methods.)
So this “stuff” goes way beyond you, and I.
I am actually at times not sure if we are all still alive.
But, I like the benefit of the doubt, and for everyone's sake of argument, and all the Tik Tok clout.
Say just for kicks it was all fake, just a falsified memory- all makes you doubt.
Everything that you were ever told, was really just a mass story that has been sold.
A single narrative, every time the same. Makes things much easier to be controlled.
Could there be an answer to it all way beyond the number plain, 42 doesn’t seem like a real response.
There are days, I am sure of everything- other days I need to channel my inner Goth.
Nature has been helping. I think it's hard to simulate all that green.
To low vibrational people this shit seems obscene: “ I would never believe in something I have never seen.”
Have you been to the Moon? No but you see it right…. It looks fake- and why cant I ever take a good picture of it huh?
Oh I forgot I am the crazy one, of course burn me at the stakes, just do it in private. I am just not a big fan of pda.
We are all angry, pretty obvious I collectively feel it in the air.
Something needs to change and while we are all going back in time let's reenact the Witch of Blair.
Shaky hands, muddled timelines, somethings off- are we in the deleted scenes- of something evil or divine?
Massively available, but pure personal and all mine.
Not sure how to really describe being spiritual to average people.
But low key lately have been waiting for this to all be once again illegal.
Let's go back in time! Maybe we really did a timeline flip- nothing phases me anymore.
I am the happiest I’ve ever been traveling for free, and chilling on the astral plane
Written By: Ash Catcher
Friday is July 1st, it is my cat’s adoption/birthday.
We won’t be having a party, as he will be asleep again by mid day.
He is old, and lazy, and cake is hardly okay.
To give to a cat, let alone a former stray.
And what do you get the cat that has just about everything?
Out of everyone in my house he gets the most packages, from my understanding.
A rushed automatic feeder, controlled by WIFI, why the fuck not.
But if you know me by now the cat is gonna get a killer card.
I can't believe I officially adopted you 2 years ago.
We have a lot to do this year, I am thinking Halloween, you should go as a mango.
You’ll be 12.. or 13 I am still not quite sure, ew were old, but I love our naps together.
But you still paint my kitchen with mouse brains, try cleaning that up sober.
That wasn’t our best day, and you go to the vet a lot.
But as a first time pet owner, and your mama you know I’ll do my part.
I love everything about you even when you meow in my face when I am working.
Forever my shadow, especially when I am trying to film a video, and cooking.
Constant content forever, my socials and heart are all yours.
The only man who ever really cares about me, Food driven? Me too- I am taking all the human food if we get divorced.
I am kidding, I am happy I took you, because I knew something told me not to leave you.
I am not sure if it was our matching eyes that won me over, or if it was my need to be the hero and rescue.
I am happy to have you and I gotcha for good.
I couldn’t have you out there in the cold nights, in the neighborhood.
1 night on the warming pad, and afternoon in the cat hut.
Fuck it come inside, and in you came in without coaxing, just your signature strut.
I know as a cancer we tend to move fast but damn.
You come over every night now, you moved in, and now you’re fam.
I can't imagine having any other pet.
But If I had to get you a brother or sister- I would be playing cat roulette.
I joke about getting you a friend, but you seem to like being an old child.
Independent, self sufficient, got me wrapped around you and beguiled.
Sneaky and foxy, but semi retired, no more lizards to chase, or trash to devour.
Happy Birthday- gotcha day! I love you so much Banner!
Don't Stare At The Strawberry Moon
Written By: Ash Catcher
The other week, was June's full moon- The Strawberry Moon, or A Blood Moon as I like to refer to it- and let me tell you I found a spot to stare at the moon for a few hours the result was I ended having an awful week. >.< Like awful, I am a pretty positive person, but for some fuckin reason absolutly nothing was going well the last half of the past week.
When my life's in disarray, the first thing I always notice is that little check engine light comes on in the car. This is why I think they call it KARMA... car, ok yea I'll keep going.... My check engine light popped on and my car is pretty old, a 2011 Mini Cooper isn't always going to runs smooth, for the most part I know my car, I know what it can handle and when i got home on Monday night I had a weird thought pop into my head- " Ash what if your battery on your car just dies... D.O.A." Whelp by Thursday when I had of course a 1000, and one thing to do. Kylo decided to kick it. Battery dead won't even start. I am really thankful I had a friend come and give me a jump- managed to get a battery installed in under an hour- by then everything was super backed up i had already apologized to all my clients i was supposed to see that day, ( If you're not caught up I have temporarily chosen to become self employed pet sitting and dog walking as one of my main sources of income- I love it no coworkers, and it's all my money) I even managed to snag some greek food real quick for lunchies as a thank you to my friend who helped me out! Dave, you are a real MVP! Thank you also for my Mercury Retrograde Book- I have been having some weird bad luck recently. I only blame it on one thing- ask me about it.
I thought ok what is one bad day, whatever it happens.... and then it happened a day later again on Saturday. I was again about to do a slew of things- see some clients, and I was going to be in the area where I could see my friend play a show... and then my phone decided to just take a huge shit, and not turn it back on. Right when I was about to leave. I lost all my contacts, and about 8 months worth of writing- I managed to recover all my social media and yeah that isn't really a big deal in retrospect but when it is a colossal part of your daily income... that shit is still stinging. So if anyone wants to get together and have a writing sesh with me and your about an hr from Philly please hit me up I lost a shit ton of content, ideas, stories, memories, and ideally in a wonderful world i would like to sit down and try to get some of that back- anyone fuck with hypnosis lol or guided mediitation- I lost so much, and i really dont even know where to begin honestly.
I did not stare at the moon for too long, also when you do for more then 10 mins at a time you begin to either halicuante or disassociate, both are not fun when you are alone in the dark, in a park. I'll see you next Wedneday! With hopefully much better luck and news- hey at least my car and phone are practically brand spanking new! Just sheeeesh $$$$$ week!
written by: Ash Catcher
Sunday sunny afternoon.
Cup of iced/ hot coffee.
Caffeinated beyond recommended doses.
Doesn't matter what the bean is as long as it's roasted.
Cause nothing gets my seratoin going these days.
Things are happening around me, and it's getting kinda strange.
Timelines collapsing, things I shouldn't know.
Intertwining with Characters from chapters almost forever ago.
And with everything getting darker, and not much more coming to light.
I Still feel like I am stuck inside, like 2 years ago- hidden out of sight.
The Cost of living is rising, but two things I know are still for certain.
I'll still spend my hard earned cash on caffeine, and gasoline.
I feel like a ghost if I am not moving, and exploring.
Been a minute since we kicked it.
Hello canned latte let's go for a $50.00 joyride.
Lately I’ve been having some better days, which makes me glad I stopped pleasing others- and quit.
Being so entertaining to one-sided ness, flakey pastry, touch and goes all the skepticism and side eye.
Java jackets, cause when I go through withdrawal I get super cold.
Doesn’t matter what I drink- could you please define what makes your coffee bold.
Flavor notes, cool- I don't really care right now.
Just inject that hot caffeinated, coffee, concoction through my veins- however much is legally allowed.
I’ll take a slow drip, give me that slow release.
Build up a tolerance, beg for relief.
The headaches are fucking murder.
If I am coming off semi snarky, and sarcastic it’s not you I am a New Yorker.
Sick of relying on sunny days- its been rather really hot, and rainy lately.
I Will most likely quit caffeine if, and when I ever make it to eighty.
I got some time, so I better get used to sitting with this addiction.
My vices are fewer now but they all thankfully still bring some relief, and infliction.
Not necessarily numbing out with my morning cup of coffee.
But add a cigarette, then we are cooking with something saucy.
Sun, smoke, fire, and warmth, and too much burned.
All opposite of my usual cold watery self, re-coded, rebranded., reformed.
Oral preoccupation, way too much self love.
I am sick of my hands, they are beyond numb.
And plastic doesn't do the trick.
Craving something a bit more thick and slick.