bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY

Okay, this amuses me a tiny bit.

February 20th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter

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How to Kill me

February 20th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter

Thank God for friends. I’m having a really dark night, America, and one Ms. Elizabeth Castoria, editor by day and apparently also editor by night, just edited my super emo blog post, saving me a lot of regret and embarrassment.

Here’s where I had put  a really creepy picture of Jonbenet, after an extended metaphor about how this break up is killing me, both which she talked me out of.

Instead, here’s this!

And here’s the rest:

That’s right, America.  Augie and I broke up and it fucking sucks. That’s also right, America. I will not be censoring my language out of respect for loved ones, I will be openly expressing myself. Fuck it. I feel pathetic and misshapen and empty  and weird and alone. (This is where there was once a really long, really sad paragraph about how sad I am and how much I’ve been crying.) I’m remembering back to middle school and high school when writing was the only thing that made me feel better. The only thing. I’m Returning to that place. Besides, I can’t show you pictures of dresses I want right now or  things that amuse me because not much amuses me and I want no dresses. Consider this your press release. Though, if there were an actual press release about this, I’d be genuinely sad for America, and everyone who lives inside of it.

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A list

February 20th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter


Hi, I’m laughing at myself. I make these notes on my phone then rarely remember or reference them, so that when I look back at the bulk of them, I don’t know what most of them mean.

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Thanks, the tissues.

February 19th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter


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Yes, boys, Yes

February 18th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter

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The Ghost is Seen

February 17th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter

I’d like to issue a formal apology for the sadsack nature of my blog as of late, but I’m basically just a ball of snot and feelings these days. As soon as I can breathe through my nose I’ll go stick my face in a puppy or go on a hike and tell you all about that. For now:

I don’t know if you’re watching HBO’s Enlightened, but I’ve watched it on and off since its beginnings. It’s one of those shows that miraculously is still on TV, because each episode is like a little one act play where oftentimes, not much happens and it dares to have a protagonist that’s oftentimes punch her in the face grating. My favorite and least favorite part is always the voiceover, depending on the episode. Most recently, this character Tyler, pictured above, a simple, lonely IT guy who’s mostly been a pawn, gets his own story, and it’s incredibly sad and beautiful.

He starts:

It’s okay to be a ghost. It has its pleasures.

You’re light. You float. You slip in and out unseen.

There’s no love to lose. Or burden to be.

You have so little to hold you down. You are free.

Some pearls are never found.

They hide under the sand on the ocean floor, No one knows they’re there.

But the pearl knows. Maybe there was a time he wanted to be found. To be seen. And to be held. But now, only hope hurts.

I am my own secret. A scret kept by me.

And then after he’s found an awkward love with Molly Shannon:

Something is changed.

Now, the ghost is scared.

He cannot float. He’s heavy. He’s flesh and blood. He must open doors. He can’t slip away unseen.

The ghost is sad. All those years invisible, haunting now.

Why didn’t he try?  Or care? Or be?

The ghost is happy.

He is found. He is held. And he is seen. The ghost is seen.

I’ve always surrounded myself with lots of people, though I very much love to be alone. But when I’m alone NOT by choice, it’s terrifying. That unknown is terrifying. But I feel like Tyler is telling me through my computer screen that it’s okay to be alone, and it can be liberating, and that I should start comparing myself to pearls and using more pearl metaphors, in general, as this will win me lots of friends, including but not limited to Molly Shannon.

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Everything’s Phoine.

February 17th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter


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Pity Bracelet.

February 16th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter

LITERALLY the only thing this day has going for it is the Beyonce documentary. Please God, let there be better days to come.

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Til there was you

February 16th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter


There was dust
In the air
And it all went up my nose holes
There was dry air all in my face
Til there was you

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Too sick to pray

February 15th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter

Some of the best songs are merely 2 minutes long, therefore must be listened to over and over. Example:

I been too sick to pray, lord
That’s why we ain’t talked in a while
Its been some of them days, lord
Thought I was on my last smile
But I’m feeling okay, lord
I’m glad that I called you today
Never needed you more, woulda called you before
But I been too sick to pray

– Willie Nelson

I realize there are like, other musicians and other songs, but this week: not so much.

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