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

always tears

December 2nd, 2016 by Bekah Brunstetter

This morning on set, the Santa Ana winds were a blowin’ and we were outside filming a car ride scene containing humans and feelings, no spoilers. The dry wind whipped into my eye holes, and suddenly I sneezed 27 times and then my eyes wept for the next four hours, but not from feels. I was unflapped, because for months, my eyes have been leaking but not from feels. I have been doing nothing about it, except just making every person I interact with think I’m ‘going through something’ as tears pour down my face as I relay that the printer won’t work. I always feel oddly ashamed though, when asked, Are you crying? when I say no it’s just my eyes , I wish I had a profound story other than Air.  I am not trapped in a poem. It’s just the air.

Posted in LA angst, oh nooo, silly, whining, words | No Comments »

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