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

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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