KkK

 

Bommsoon Lee

Immediate Subtitlist

 

Hello! Welcome to Entry Forms: UK Korean Artists exhibition opening night!

Oh, I’m starving!!

I might get some free food and drinks first.

Okay. Help yourself.

This is what I think I am required to say to you.

Oh * my * goodness * that looks delicious!

Aw yeah! I bet it tastes even better you fat bastard.

 

 

May I interrupt your conversation?

This is Entry Forms: UK Korean Artists’ exhibition.

I know.

Are the artists from North Korea or South Korea?

Sense of guilt I suppose… fuck sake.

 

So, you are one of the artists participating in this show?

Pt…I need to be at a level where I can exist on.t. for a long term…

I mean I can actually - in the pursuit of happiness is always there and I can pursue that to… ha… a very quick harmful death.

Oh. Great. I asked a psychopath.

Thanks for that.

 

 

Hi Hi

Oh hi

Have you managed to see some art here yet?

Like big time. Yeah!

I would say she is so hot. I had a long day. I'm tired. I'm drunk.

You know when she is hassling me.

Yup

Lovely talking to you.

 

Excuse me. I saw you’ve been standing by the art work quite a long time. Do you… did you like it?

Um… I donno.

I was just talking to my old mate I hadn’t seen for a long time.

It was good. Gooood. I was lucky to be introduced to someone from the council.                                                

I know it is very important to meet people rather than seeing art, huh?                                                       

Okay. Alright. I think it’s a piece of shit. I agree.   

Lucky bugger.                                                                                                                                               

Cheers. 

                                                                                                                                                              

So, you are an artist. What’s your work about? 

Well… laziness and cowardice are the reasons why so great a portion of mankind, after the nature has long since discharged them from external

direction…                                                                                      

Nevertheless, it remains under lifelong tutelage, and why it is so easy for others to see themselves up as their guardians.

Oh yeah?                                                                                                                                                             

I mean that wouldn’t be a problem….cause, coz, I lie. I speak.                                                                       

I just burst into tears and talk… talked to the dog.                                                                                           

Bow Wow!                                                                                                                                                     

There was a warm contagious lump underneath unguarded pale curves see through a free freckle lying on the thin veins forgotten

hunger!                                                                                                                         

I don’t understand what you mean.

I DO NOT understand what I mean either.

Anyway, I hope you are enjoying food.                                                                                                           

And of course drinks

 

 

I wished you would be dissipated soon… in burning sight… unreasoned calm… never been mine.             

Who will remember this has seen it.                                                                                                                         

I ran into you the day I sat on a wooden bench I used to think was only for others.                                     

People I despised, people I loved and people I never met will welcome my return.                                              

I insist.                                                                                                                                                                 

It’s time to go back but I know there isn’t anything.                                                                                         

You want to go back home and no more holding his myth.                                                                               

Stop pondering over my words.                                                                                                                          

There isn’t much to get.                                                                                                                                      

Live on what you think it is, physical.        

 

Have I become healthier to say I want to go back rather than saying I want to die.                                              

Hold on a minute.                                                                                                                                               

The truth is that I was… I was frustrated.                                                                                                                    

I have been able to push… ehm… aside, a little further back to do the job.                                                     

And and…                                                                                                                                                          

But you kissed me. You kissed me in my dream.                                                                                               

This is going to be totally absurd.                                                                                                                  

Yeah I see that.

I was furious in the middle of sleep.

 

Hey there.                                                                                                                                                              

I’m talking to you.                                                                                                                                               

I’m confessing. Stop eating. For god’s sake!                                                                                                        

Look at some art. I give up. Do whatever you like.                                                                                                       

Anyway, It was a miserable wank…  the night became restless.                                                                      

That was you I remember.                                                                                                                                

He was different. He never seemed to wonder what I look like naked. Not like my dad used to stare at my

breasts growing and didn’t ever give a toss to know what I was dying for.                                                              

I truly think that it is impossible to get your attention.                                                                                          

It is awful.                                                                                                                                                          

You did expect it. Didn’t you?                                                                                                                             

He he liked to know what I was curious about.                                                                                                     

He liked to be questioned.                                                                                                                                  

Over there.                                                                                                                                                             

You, eating food, talking to people and drinking.                                                                                                

Have you managed to see some art here?                                                                                                             

For god’s sake. This is EXHIBITION OPENING.                                                                                                

I am not criticising you.                                                                                                                                       

I just feel a little isolated.    

 

 

 

I then just have to hope you could come again.                                                                                                 

I know, I perfectly understand.                                                                                                                                

This is not for art. Is it?                                                                                                                                             

Oh dear you are late again.                                                                                                                                

I am exhausted. I am disappointed. I am unable to move. I have broken arms and legs.                                           

I can imagine.                                                                                                                                                          

I live by the inertia that I can’t possibly get away from.                                                                                               

I look down on little pleasures and resist your custom.                                                                                                 

I have not been honest about it.

 

Thank you for talking to me there.                                                                                                                    

What you don’t know frightens you.                                                                                                                

Grasp a moment… pushing you most uneasy…                                                                                               

Still pondering over my words?                                                                                                                               

I said stop doing it. There isn’t much to get.                                                                                                           

I say… you see, art is…                                                                                                                                    

while reference or intentionality is intrinsic and constant in propositions, whatever fulfils that purpose is extrinsic and variable.