탈북 17년 차 라디오 진행자 봄희. 하지만 '북한말'을 못 한다는 이유로 정체성을 의심받는다. 반대로 남한 사람들은 북한말을 배우며 가볍게 소비하고, 그녀는 점점 더 낯선 자신을 마주한다. 끝없는 질문 속에서, 그녀는 누구도 묻지 않는 하루를 꿈꾼다.

Just 0.2 seconds after a sound wave reaches the cochlea, the brain interprets the vibrations as a sound with unique qualities of distance, direction and speed. The emotions and meanings we attach to each sound are subjective. 　　Hyejin Jung realized this when she started hearing a constant buzzing in her right ear. Her doctor's explanation was that her ear was becoming a machine. While at the hospital she met Somchai, a construction worker with the same complaint, and they started to compare the ways their bodies sound on the inside. 　　In this fusion of medical reporting, societal reflection, soundscape, and personal poetic self-examination Jung reveals through image and sound just how thin the dividing line is between sound and noise. Going beyond her own, individual experience—which ranges from mind-blowing to claustrophobic—she argues that the powers that be regard the voices of marginalized people (who often perform work that causes hearing damage) as noise, and combat it as such.