What does a subject expect when they encounter a dealer of frequencies. Not expecting the unexpected, hands hand lobes folded. To numb to pick up any out of ordinary frequency on the radar of who? The counterpart deciphering every twitch, every eye dart, every moving muscle in the face. Feast on weird interaction. Observation. Analyzation. Conversation disgust me, I must rid my hatred. For the gallery world is full of lite and mingle. Fun after some Château Margaux, stolen from a Malibu throne holder.
