A Monologue for A (2017)
A를 위한 독백

Performance, Text

The text originally written for a private gift in 2014.
The below text is a revised version for a reading performance.
Reading Performance (Place | Kehäkukka, Hämeenkyrö, Finland / Date | 21st Nov 2017)



Nights are there waiting for you.

I know you, at least this:
You are an insomniac.
Three in the morning, you sneaked out of our bed, sitting in a kitchen painted in yellow.
You, sitting there in the white pants, your top off, drinking a cup of camomile tea.
You were Googling your name.

I know you, at least this:
You sometimes rejected having lunch with your colleagues, and going to a small outdoor market,
buying a good falafel without a bread wrap,
finding a good spot quite dark and hidden,
sitting on the floor eating your gluten-free falafel and looking at pigeons under bright daylight.
You wanted to die, you dared to dream of it without excitement.
There is a dream of dying.
I understand that there is the dream.

One day, I saw you going back to home from a long distance.
I could see you, and your green-black rucksack.
You were walking towards a park to cut across to get home.
I swear, I saw a rose sticking out of your bag.
It was my birthday so I thought that the red rose was for me.
While I was thinking about it, I lost sight of you as you walked so much faster than me.
When I got home, you weren’t there.
I waited for you.
I didn’t ask you anything when you got back.
There wasn’t the rose.
There wasn’t a rose.
Where had you been, where had the rose gone?

That was a cold night.
Winter.
We lived in the reality of winter, which means, it was cold and long.

We tried seeing something we could not see, that was a link between you and me.
The link was also unseen and unsaid.
When you believed in something, I believed in it. I didn’t need a reason.
The sun—you loved talking about the sun.
The suns—you had seen so far, over the foreign desert in a foreign country, over its soft ridges.
You told me about the suns—the suns under the surface of water in a swimming pool, under thin waves of the sea.

You tell me, you can swim like a fish.



All Contents ⓒSu Jung