*walks out on to the stage, lights all dramatic like. the barker walks
in to the center ring. he takes position somewhere in the upper left
quadrant and chooses a contrapposto pose. except he cannot look the
audience in the eye, looking down towards the center of the
ring. strategically long hair and a fancy top hat covers his face

welcome, to the meta theater playhouse! please don't mind our poor
formatting and lazy css, we are open during construction- not that we
ever plan on finishing…

*his speech trails off, not that his voice was noticeable in the first
place. so quiet, so monotone.

take a look inside, and wander round. try to get lost, try to get
out. not much here yet. see what you can find. some lost fool's random
notes and ramblings? an attempt to reach outside his head? oh the
horror! oh the tragedy! another pitiful attempt at humor? or a
justification for a sorry existence? self-decrepation as a defense
mechanism?

you'll just have to find out for yourself. i sure don't know what i'm
talking about. let the horrors begin! the horrors of a mind trapped
within a mind, looking at itself looking outside itself at a
reflection of itself. trying to escape the metaphors and idioms, to
speak plainly about something that everyone else probably already
figured out a long time ago. the only twist here is how out of touch
this mind really is.

*the barker bows, sweeping the cane in his right hand across the
ground as his arm crosses his chest. his hat falls from his
head.