Sunffine 
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. 



-Ash ​

​Dinner for ONE. 
By: Ash Catcher 
** A semi passive aggressive take on food.

​*Cashew butter tastes like Hatboro. 
And that is where I started to dabble with veganism. 
And Stouts, trivia, and way too many drunken nights, turned into WTF was I thinking mornings. ( Always a Monday) 
 Which turned into your name on my lips.
 And then after a movie or two, and some awkward conversation0 absolutely NO EYE CONTACT-  it's your face in-between my hips. 
I thought that life was alright. But then I met you. 


 Slammin Salmon Sundays, Way too much guac / overeating, all the drinking, I was in a 2 year  (food) coma from hell. 

Wawa Sandwiches, Voo- Doo Chips, and WAY too much weed, they all taste like Langhrone, and way too much time spent in Village Shires. I am not a hobbit. But why do I always fall for people of Irish descent. There is no deficit that is for sure. 
 and you thought keeping me in a constant state of chaos would be good for my stomach, shame on you. You don't have a gluten intolerance. You are just intolerable. 

Then I moved to fucking Siberia, and all I did was eat Russian food, and masterbate to the thoughts of you. 
Soviet candies, Russian Jellies, I have never drank so much tea in my life. 12 cups at my own curated meat feast.  
Why is my neighbor insane? 
Why is this random French guy, and his wife in my apartment? 
I just didn’t have the stomach for teaching anymore. But I loved all the treats- just not the gossip in the hallways.  
I wish others could be so brave, and quit their career to pursue their life long passions. ( and have the support to do so) 
But you couldn't see past your own selfishness, I couldn’t make you see past your own plate- so you took my fucking table. 

Our departure was like 2lbs of Strawberries that I got at the produce junction in Germantown the next day. 
I ate them in my car. I didn’t wash them.
 I liked to take a little risk. 
And I kinda was okay at dying from unwashed strawberries at the time. 
Now I am just so sick of washing my hands every 30 seconds. 
Avoiding people and emotionally eating instead. 

I can never order dessert in complete confidence ever again. 
Thank you for all the dinners. I see pictures of them pop up in my memories and I am more confident in my cooking and my life choices now. 

"So what are we cooking for dinner tomorrow?"




- Ash

​I Deserve A Better Goodbye
Written By: Ash Catcher 

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

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

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 ​

Some Assembly Maybe Required: Teaching Myself How To Cook
Written By: Ash Catcher 

     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 ​

Coffee & Astrology 
Written By: Ash Catcher

Water: 


Coffee crazy Cancer 
Trying to keep it all together.
House of cuppery, losing sanity.
Master of all profanity.

People pleasing Pisces.
Nostalgic necrophilia psycho killer.
Can never decide what to order.
Stuck in a dreamland of disorder. 

Scorpio put down the espresso. 
Coked out, riding out of their minds writing raving manifestos.
Yea we know you’re so intense. 
But out of all the water signs you’re just the most stubborn, and dense. 



Air: 

Gemini is torn between two drinks. 
Trying to combine the two. 
What is the truth? What do each of you want? 
Each side shows a different truth. 

Loose lisp Libras thought you would go for the tea. 
Throws a curveball at me, and orders a Pepsi. 
Still Trending, dysfunctional kazoo.
Not too sure what to do with you. 

Aquarius is on the phone, and sends me a google invite. 
To talk about my plans for “ A Real Job.” Not sure if it is in spite of for the latter. 
But that is the thing with air signs On to the next thing 
Like to float around, never settling, I admire that directional swing. 


Earth: 

Virgo is in the corner categorizing the sugar packets. 
Shaking them so they all fit evenly, causing quite a racket. 
Lining them up, now I know you thrive on patterns. 
"Guess I should bring up something irrelevant that doesn’t matter.”

Capricorn is attempting to organize all the Matthew’s in their phone. 
Best of luck with that endeavor, they’re all just a bunch of bros. 
Cold Brew like personality. 
Can tell a lot about a man, by asking how they feel about police brutality. 

Taurus is trying to survey the whole room, reading it at their best. 
Honest to a fault they are without a doubt some of my favorite guests. 
They always love conversation, and always hold up the line. 
My Ace up my sleeve, my fast tract to the spiritual realm and their timing always devine.


Fire: 

Aries, showing up where they are not welcomed. 
Keeping the conversation always short and seldom. 
Casual indifference, bitchy little vibes, you think you are my only middle aged balding Aries. 
If I could rename your sign I would change it to Larry.

Leo has a latte. 
That screams red flags, it’s a hot day.  
Milking underdeveloped mediocrity. 
And I am not trying to capture the flag, more focused on this cappuccino’s topography. 

Sagittarius, last but not least let me take a guess, you want something spontaneous, and sweet. 
A Carmel Macchiato, good fucking god no drink should ever exceed 8oz. Why do you insist on mods? 
Tripe the liquid, oh wow cause you’re so fun and a flirt. 
That is nice and all, but you never last, and just so you know later all that dairy is gonna hurt. 



This is what I can assume each astrological sign would act if they went for coffee. 
How would they interact with one another, would they act nice or cocky. 
My co-workers like to casually throw around sun signs. 
Lots of personalities and coffee combined. 


I am sure I can guess your drink order, and sign.



-Ash ​

​Fake It Until You Can Stage It: The Audience and The Artist 
Written By: Ash Catcher  

I love a good show, whether it is a stage show,  a good tv series, a movie, a concert, or even a hauntingly precise  reenactment of Washington crossing the Delaware river on Christmas in the dead of winter, entertainment is just there to make this unbearable existence we have dared to call life just a tad bit more interesting. Good god was that a run on…. This week I wanted to talk about the dynamic between the audience, and the artist. Now is there a grey area? That is what I would like to find out, at what point does someone in the audience snap out of their primordial slumber and get this wackadoo idea in their head that they too can be an artist, and should start performing all their hopes and dreams? 

     Creativity and Cycles: Like the cycles of the past few moons, you best believe personally for me my creative cycles depend on a few things: my schedule I work a fuck ton. I am not even exaggerating. I am trying to build an empire and I don't have time to hang out with you most of the time. I cannot see much benefit aside from having a human moment or two, which can most of the time be overrated. The way I create is on a pretty strict schedule. Every Monday I write, I write till my fingers fall off essentially and then Tuesday I draft up AT content to be posted on Wednesday. Everything is on a Wednesday I have curated everything so that smack dab in the middle of the work week people can hopefully find a bit of solace and entertainment to break up from the work week, or if your like me you’re most likely working weekends as well, and forgot the other day was Saturday. I both envy and pity people with a 9-5 weekend warrior lifestyle, go you. Clap Clap. I make sure if I have an idea for something I write it down in my note app on my phone, it is freaking chaos in there full blown moon in Scorpio anarchy. This loops on a weekly basis until I eventually give up, or hire an assistant to help me organize my life because I am too busy doing it for other people. 


      The Audience, and The Artist Intermingling: Just like almost everything I make at work, lots of ingredients go into a vortex and you add heat and something sweet you can make just about anything and charge 6.50 for it…. .75 extra for Oat milk- hey I don't make the rules. I love to romanticize things, I don't know why, and I am unbelievably forgiving and empathic towards inanimate objects, and people who do not deserve second chances. But man oh man do I love seeing the dynamic of an audience. A collective hive of individuals, most of the time that seem to be vibrating in unison over whelp it could be just about anything I mean even watching GOT finale back in 2019 with a group of friends could constitute for an audience. But like that ending still fucking sucked. The thing I really like is when audience members seem to almost have an “OH SHIT” moment where I think a few things are going on in their heads: 1) I think I can do this too, I want to express myself in some sort of art outlet, and 2) Sheesh I need to pee but I don't want to use the bathroom and risk missing anything. There are two types of people in this world: People who want fame, the need and drive to express themselves, and everyone who is too timid to do anything, deer in the headlight, What IF I make an idiot of myself kinda people. They are better off watching, I would love to go to a show again, I just feel fucking agitated all the time when the thought ever occurs. I want to be left alone, and just create things like a maniac. Embrace the mania. But absolutely, the lights, all the people, your senses are all on fire and then the mindless and numbing starts to ensue, and like a drug you will want to go to a show 3 or 4 times a week- you'll spend way too much money, get crazy migraines, occasionally drink to much- or get drugged a bunch like i kept finding. Certain things tend to take away from the actual appreciation for the creation, and it just becomes a socially acceptable way or event to lose all logic, throwing it against the wall and watching it slowly bleed out. 

  Homogenized Creativity: Feeding off of other’s creative endeavors to inspire your own, I know I have friends who get mad when other people come out with things similar to their own, I am actually really flattered and lately when people tell me that I have inspired them to write again- that shit gets me feeling all warm and fuzzy- I keep it high vibe, and it's really a shame life is so short who gives a shit if someone wants to be you- be humble it's flattering when someone acknowledges your creative errors and endeavors. I love when musicians get inspired from one another, otherwise how else would you have all of these genres and styles of music, it didn't all just come from a primordial G chord. 


I am done ranting for this week, see ya next Wednesday 


-Ash