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Ash Wednesday! I Deserve A Better Goodbye

5/31/2022

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​I Deserve A Better Goodbye
Written By: Ash Catcher 
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I used to think I didn't belong anywhere 
But now I think I am just addicted to fresh starts. 
When the scenery gets too monotonous for me, 
I just get that itching to part with half my belongings and head off in search of something new. 
I learned to leave now in search of something, never someone. 
I'll never move and uproot my life again for another person. 
That version of me is no longer recognized. 
Over time we get hardwired differently. 

I deserve a better goodbye. 
I deserve a better goodbye. 

I only can process proximity through this every so often. 
It is fucking daunting to move.
I never received that postcard in the mail. 
I never got that apology. 
I never say goodbye, just good luck.
As if I actually believed my presence mattered. 
And I just don't get recast in the same roll telling myself every night
... "Maybe this time it's going to be a bit different…" 

But I refuse to water myself down just so you can try and attempt to digest me better. 
You can choke. 
I am a river my dude, I go in one direction, with the flow. 
Never backwards, steady on, not weighed down by your own undoing. 

I deserve a better goodbye. 
I deserve a better goodbye. 

If you just tried to wade in my waters I would be forever grateful; 
But I would also be so taken back and close right back the fuck up. 
Locked up tight, cool, calm and encumbered. 
Look man if I could, I would. 

I deserved more than what I get/got. 
So I keep my expectations scary low. 
I am starving. 
And I am so malnourished, and cannot survive on crumbs anymore. 



I deserve a better goodbye. 



- ash
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Ash Wednesday! Licorice

5/25/2022

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Licorice 
Written By: Ash Catcher 


I have only been to one funeral in about 30 years. 
My grandpa died back in 2001 before 9/11. 
In February I remember it being oddly warm. 
I also remember him being super quiet, but very stern. 

When he was sick we would stay in bed. 
He stopped working, we stopped hiking. 
My grandma spent every moment taking care of him. 
One thing we had in common, it wasn’t much was we both liked candy. 

Mostly my grandpa would eat licorice, to this day when I have some Red Vines, or Twizzlers I still think of him. 
I am not sure why but apparently licorice has a bad wrap in the candy community. 
It's hard, and doesn't always taste the best, unless it's strawberry, but for some reason black licorice was always present. 
It matched my grandpa’s harsh exterior, but when you took a bite, he had some soft chewy moments. 

I cannot imagine what it was like to provide for your family, just to unexpectedly leave it. 
I am thinking it is like when you start one of those shoe string licorice strands, the kind you get at the shore. 
That is like your lifeline. 
By the time you get to the end, you’re so preoccupied with preservation for what you have built, you don't notice you run out of rope. 

It makes me nauseous, sometimes when I reach for some of my past relatives' favorite things. 
For the longest I have known him he always smoked a pipe, I remember sitting in his chair one night, blowing bubbles, all while smoke erupted in a cloud. 
I used to marvel at the smoke, it looked really mysterious and still to this day I only know him from a surface level. 
Sharing my love for lemons, Ironically I started eating them to quit smoking, I am pretty sure my grandpa smoked since he was 8 years old. 

In large amounts if consumed enough licorice can decrease swelling, coughing- I remember being sick one time at my grandparents and having brandy. I was 8. 
In the USA, many licorice products only contain anise, and not actual licorice. When I am behind the bar I get oddly nostalgic when I see Angostura bitters. 
It's supposed to settle your stomach but when I eat it, I always 1: Kill the entire pack and 2: make straws and stick them in my drinks. It's messy. 
It's a pretty tough thing to digest, even though it aids in digestion, kinda like a 9 year old trying to comprehend death for the first time. 

The day of his funeral the clock in my grandparents dining room stopped working for the first time ever. 
The numbers added up to how old he was, 61. Today that is pretty young. 
He never looked his age, always much older I guess that makes sense when you have been working your entire life. 
I am forever grateful to someone I barely got to know, I just get really into my licorice, and think about Stan. 

It's traditional for my family at funerals to put rocks on the headstone of the person who died. 
I should have put a piece of licorice, instead of my rock. 
My grandpa loved to travel, he saw much of the world with my grandma and provided funding for each of his grandchildren to take a trip with my grandma. 
I know he would have loved to have accompanied me to Italy. 

I think he still travels a lot. 
Just in a different timeline and dimension. 
I am not sure what he would think if we met again. 
But I know we would be able to at least share a snack. 



-Ash ​

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Ash Wednesday! Amount The Sprung

5/17/2022

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With the pollen count too damn high. 
I seek shelter in my air conditioned home, and hide. 
Allergies be fucking debilitating this year, My eyes are struggling to open. 
Just looking forward to summer, it will be here soon, here's to hoping. 

But I have to admit I am digging these evening walks. 
Around my neighborhood, I hear all the talk. 
So and so mowed over the property line. 
Most days I don’t notice my thoughts are  on something much higher, Borderline Devine. 

Always cleaning off the pollen from my camera lens. 
Getting sick of sitting in all this luxury car traffic: BMW and Mercedes Benz. 
My janky ass mini pushing is almost 15 yrs old. 
Could be considered a classic car soon, little black bread mold. 

A record collection and a whole library I really do not want to move. 
And all the sex toys under my bed, I know that you said you did not approve. 
I would liquidate everything, aside from all my plants. 
Cause I am getting really sick of the same sneers and scenery, why is everyone trying to get into my pants. 

People seem to be divided on this one but I’ll just say it: 
I don't understand casual dating, my energy is too precious to haphazardly transmit. 
I think it’s great if you want to play the field, but these days it’s looking like a wasteland. 
With responses to texts so slow, what is this 2000 something am I hooked into the broadband? [ MOM, I AM ON THE PHONE!] 

As much as I like the attention, this shit is distracting. 
I am trying to build a fucking empire, why is it always torn apart people that I am attracting?  
Broken can be beautiful, but I am not trying to put together another person’s puzzle. 
Delusions, shaken up with uncertainty, strain into a heart shaped glass, That is the Involuntary Muscle. 

But back to spring, shit yeah damn people are so horny. 
If going out for dinner translates to  I want to bang on our first encounter, I am bringing my attorney. 
I am just floored with how tacky some people can be. 
I doubt things will get a bit better as time goes on, two more months till I am thirty. 

Lately I haven’t been sleeping the best, but apparently 3 AM is the perfect time for digital harassment. 
Makes me lose all hope for humanity, I blue thumbs up all their advancements. 
Honestly at this point I get more pleasure from myself.  
Because I am the only one that fucks me over, its a Thing-In-Itself. 



-Ash
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Ash Wednesday! DM'ED if you do, DM'ED if you dont.

5/10/2022

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Written By: Ash Catcher
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Astro traveling to the 711 would be convenient if it wasn't for the lackluster ride.

Breaking down walls with too much breakfast, trying to decipher what's the truth and what is a lie. 

Can you send me a picture of yourself? Is all I seem to get these days.

Do you know how beautiful you are? But my guy I can't talk to right now I am trying to get a raise. 

Every time they dont see that there is more to me then there seems to be. 

Fuck off, I am selective with who is in my life, I don't know you random person- you really think our conversations are free? 

Get to the point why are you messaging me, I have 1,001 things to do and your taking away from my life and my money. 

How have you been? Is the topmost worst text I can receive. Ready to chuck this talk box. Go somewhere more sunny. 

I am not trying to capture the red flag. But lately I am thinking about switching out of intermediate and going pro. 

Just so you know I like to match people's energy. It's a tool I learn in therapy. 

Keep asking me if I want to grab a drink with you. I am ready to fucking quit my job I am so sick and tired of alcohol. 

Like what is the point of starting a conversation if it's just going to eventually dissipate in disappointment. 

My friend referred to me as intense the other day. I think I need more interesting friends. 

No I am not trying to reason with logic at the moment but maybe in a week or two when the moon isn't so full, I'll maybe feel less manic. 

Out of touch with myself, but I am trying my best. I know some people get it, others try to understand. 

People scare me. 

Queen of the "Can I ask you a question?" 

Really I don't know what to say. 

Sucks, this feeling sucks.

This is not what I wanted 

Usually I'll just deny 50 requests a day. 

Very exhausted and mentally drained how do people do this every day

What could I do differently? 

Xplain to me like I am stupid. 

You seem different. 

Zero tolerance for this bullshit. 





-Ash ​
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Ash Wednesday! Some Assembly Maybe Required: Teaching Myself How To Cook

5/3/2022

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Some Assembly Maybe Required: Teaching Myself How To Cook
Written By: Ash Catcher 
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     This maybe kinda a weird thing to write about, but if you do not know by now I have this undesirable need to create things: That does include dinner. On nights that I am home I tend to get pretty creative in the kitchen. I like spicy, mostly vegan, or vegetarian meals and access to some weird “basket ingredients”. Lately I have had a bit more time to myself so I went thru all of my cookbooks. I have quite a bit now, but for the longest time I would just buy them and never make anything from them. It wasn’t until I was in college and had "my own” kitchen that I finally began cooking and baking. If you follow me on social media you can see me making drinks, and food all the time. It has become a very fun outlet for me- my hands don’t always feel compelled  to paint or draw, although I do a fair bit of journaling and collaging, cooking has become a great creative channel, not to mention makes for some oddly unique content.

     Food for me is important, as a cancer watery sign hot moody mess food became this thing that I used to associate with self care. I spend most of my day caring for other people, and my cat banner- but when it's time to eat at the end of the day that seems to be the best time for me to hyper focus on myself, and nourish myself a little bit.  I do travel quite a bit on my off days, summer is coming and I will be disconnecting more and more, looking forward to sunny days, hiking, and lots of beach trips- I tend to grab quick little things on the way to my destinations. Usually a coffee/ Americano and a carb of my choice. I always take fruit when I go for walks around the neighborhood, or go out for an easy 5 mile walk on the canal with my cat. He loves to look at the water, and marvels at all the trees. I want him to enjoy the rest of his life, that includes a fair amount of grilled chicken dinners as well. 

     I come from like 3 living generations of amazing women who excuse my French but uh…. “Fuck food up.” Dinner when I was younger was some of the most memorable times of my life. My mom made everything with such a profound amount of love that it was immeasurable, there wasn’t a measuring cup on the market that could hold the amount of talent she has. Food was seasoned to perfection, I had never grown up knowing that Salt and Pepper shakers were actually used and not just for cute decor. Nothing needed adding to it, it just stood flawlessly on its own. Dessert was always included, as well as coffee or tea. My grandmother(s) also bring their A game when it comes to cooking, with both Russian and German heritage while food growing up at my grandparents house was vastly different. There is something straggly comforting about the commonality of Eastern European food. I still go to Russian supermarkets, and enjoy other supermarkets aside from my defaults: Aldis, and Trader Joes ( Literally blew through a bag of mini cucumbers the other week, we all got a vice haha).  

    I like to playfully call this stuff Kitchen Witchery: while some assembly maybe required and at times I may over do it on ingredients, I got this down pat, a lot of failure and trial and error, a lot of late night creating alone in the kitchen all seems to be worth it to create a lasting memory all associated with food. Our relationship at times like any has been rocky, but lately with some careful consideration, and creating with intent. My kitchen game is pretty on par. I love creating, and cooking with other people- I think maybe that in itself shows what some time spent coexisting together and creating a tangible outcome. It is quite something to make something from nothing.

     In 2020 I wrote a cookbook myself, and I would love to get it properly published. I have been sitting on this project because HONESTLY I am a little unsure if people would even be interested in what I have to say. Some weeks I feel like I am talking to a brick wall, other weeks I get the feeling more people read these things then let on. I love when people wish me a Happy Ash Wednesday it is truly humbling. I am going to continue to write every week for as long as Long Shots allows me to be feasted for! Feeling particularly grateful this week. 



-Ash ​
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