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

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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