it's all so ionesco.

lately i feel as if i've been trapped in some sort of ionesco play.

nothing i say seems to come out the right way. nothing i say seems to make any sense at all. and i'm pretty sure none of the jokes i make are actually very funny. i keep talking (and talking and talking and talking) and everyone is looking at me like i've gone insane.

if this were pirandello, i would probably try to blame some kind of author for these issues. (see, that was a joke. but not a very good one.)

but it's not. it's decidedly ionesco.

maybe i'll get lucky and someone will turn into a rhinoceros. (another joke. even worse than the previous.)