I talk about wounds from some time ago. I talk about obscure pressure and untraceable hatred. I shed tears, saying I’m scared to be loved. And all of this leads to mom. I look right into the camera and ask, “do you hate your mom, then?”. And I respond, “no, I don’t”. “Actually, maybe I do.” In my head, love and hatred rush into each other.
|318||2020-09-19 | 17:30 - 18:57||Megabox Baekseok 7|