Do they kiss when they have want or do they not know when all emotions are at rest? How does it feel to be the center of attention but to be so thoroughly unknown? They share a bed and a routine that leaves you cold; they snuggle up to you in their leather jackets and speak with a practiced panache that turns your skin to butter. Nothing is sacred or true or true anymore; all is confusion and now is the season of the absurd. The kiss is for fools and all fools are mortals, and the kiss is for fools who wait for their turn.

Neural experiments are guided and merged by an artistic vision.