The Art of Indescribable Emotions: A Special Sixth Anniversary Post
At the
beginning of 2026, I announced that my blog would be shifting to posts once a
month, but also mentioned that February would be the exception to this rule for
one very specific reason: the dual holiday of my blog anniversary and the
anniversary of when I became an ARMY, a fan of the Korean supergroup, BTS. In terms of the blog itself, this post is
also a milestone post – my 150th post, which is mind blowing for a number of
reasons. I feel like it was only yesterday when I was celebrating my 100th post
and yet here I am at 150. The scope of the blog may have changed somewhat, but
I am nevertheless extremely proud of myself for making it to such an insane
number of posts, and so I of course had to celebrate.
Of course,
all of these things also coincide with Valentine’s Day. For so many people, this
holiday represents a celebration of love in all its many forms, and it does for
me too, albeit in very different ways than for most people – ways that are
often difficult to describe. But somehow that just makes it even more
appropriate that this holiday represents these two important intersections of
my identity, because struggling with indefinable emotions is something that
relates to both of these parts of me. Not only that, but learning to embrace this
idea is part of the ongoing process of both of my life as an ARMY and as an aspec person, something that, ironically enough, BTS’s music quite
literally gives me the language to describe.
This is
something I have been thinking about a lot lately, not only because of my ARMY
anniversary, but because of something else coming up in about a month. Due to
their mandatory military service, BTS has been on group hiatus since 2022 and,
although they’ve been releasing solo albums and songs, they haven’t released
anything as a group in nearly four years. That will change with the March 20th
release of their upcoming album Arirang, which will be followed by a
world tour throughout 2026 and into 2027. Needless to say, this is what ARMY
has been waiting for and anticipating since the moment BTS’s group hiatus was
announced, and I am of course one of those ARMYs.
But for me,
the anxiety and anticipation is more pronounced than it perhaps is for other
people, further highlighting the idea of undefinable emotions. And that makes
it even more appropriate that the concept behind Arirang is just another
example of something multi-faceted and difficult to describe. So today, I want
to honor all of those emotions as I explore something that’s fascinated me
about BTS’s work and about Korean language and culture in general: the idea of
difficult to describe emotions. It is in these complicated topics that I can
really see my own struggle reflected, and so I think there’s no better way to
embrace the full spectrum of emotions I currently feel as both an AroAce person
and as an ARMY than to discuss these things today.
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On some
level, all emotions are indefinable and indescribable. If you’ve ever tried to
describe an emotion like “happiness” or “sadness” without using synonyms for
the words themselves, you’ll know what I mean – even the basic definitions for
these emotions on places like Wikipedia struggle with this concept. This is
because these emotions are complex and multi-faceted, and sometimes we can feel
them without understanding why. But in my experience, I am always fascinated by
the less familiar emotions we may feel, those that are even more complex and
even more indescribable, resisting definition and even true understanding.
Also in my
experience, many of these emotional concepts actually come from other languages
and cultures. Many of these have entered the English language as loan words –
such as, for instance, the German word schadenfreude (experiencing happiness or
joy because of someone else’s misfortune) or the French term joie de vivre (described
as a general enjoyment and delight in life). For a personal example, I am very
drawn to the idea of hiraeth, a Welsh word describing nostalgia and
homesickness for Wales, but which has largely been adopted in modern parlance
to describe these feelings more broadly for places one has never actually been,
and sometimes for places that no longer or have never existed. Since becoming a
fan of BTS, I’ve been exposed to more examples of these emotions – of words and
cultural concepts which don’t have easy explanations. In many cases, these are likewise
not things that can even be fully understood in English due to their very
inherently Korean identity.
One of the
clearest examples of this is the concept of “han,” which is described by Korean
people as a concept encompassing emotions like sorrow, nostalgia, anger, pain,
and hope. But there’s an additional layer of han that I find fascinating, which
is the feeling of having no recourse to otherwise get rid of these emotions,
such as in instances of being wronged and knowing you can never have a sense of
justice, or on occasions where you are forced to experience a deep longing that
nothing will cure. Because of these things, han is less an emotion and more a
state of being, one you have to feel and work through. As such, when Korean art
encompasses han, it often does so in a way that encourages people to embrace
the inevitability of what han represents and to work through it to have hope
for the future, rather than any kind of resolution.
Although I
myself am not Korean, and thus cannot personally speak to the very real
circumstances throughout Korean culture and history that make han so relevant
as an emotion, I think many people can nevertheless relate to these feelings,
even if we don’t share the exact same contexts. As an aspec person, for
instance, I can relate to the feelings of powerlessness that han can express,
and know what it’s like to have to work through emotions rather than look
forward to any type of concrete outcome. Another way I relate to han is thanks
to the BTS song that first introduced me to the concept, the iconic and
poignant ballad “Spring Day.” [Music video posted below]
This song
heavily features the emotions of han to describe both the sorrow and nostalgia
of lost connection, the hopelessness and injustice of society’s apathy to human
suffering, and the longing for better days to come – the spring day that is
promised in the song’s lyrics. This melancholy longing is specifically
described within the song as being longing for a lost friendship, and I find
the inclusion of this type of platonic love extremely powerful for a variety of
reasons, not least of which because the love I feel for BTS is a unique brand
of platonic love in and of itself. This platonic love being combined with the
sentiments described in han feels so relevant to me and my own journey as an
aspec ARMY, since in many ways those two identities feel as if they go so
perfectly hand in hand every day, not just today.
In my own
life, that longing has played out as I’ve watched BTS complete their military
service, and as I’ve waited to see what comes next for them as a band and for
me as a fan. The nostalgia I feel for the old days, the simpler times when I
was first getting to know them and everything felt safe and accessible, has
been a constant companion for me during this time. The sorrow and preemptive
grief I feel at the notion that one day I might find myself excluded from the
messages of these songs and the lessons they teach is something I consider a
great deal, and the anger at society’s apathy for these things all factor into
my ARMY journey in a way that is unique to me and my own circumstances. And, of
course, these things naturally parallel my aspec feelings in general in ways
I’m sure any regular reader of the blog would recognize.
There have
been plenty of times, even recently, where these complicated feelings have
abated or even feel as if they have been acknowledged. In my anniversary post
last year, I discussed why the band’s oldest member Jin and his special brand
of love was and continues to be a source of strength for me; in Jin’s first
album following the completion of his military service there is even a song
called “I Will Come to You,” whose Korean title is simply “Longing.” Getting to
experience the joy, delight, and wonder of Jin’s work since he finished his
service has been so rewarding, and getting to see him in concert in 2025 with
my mom is one of the fondest memories of my life, all of which has made me feel
like some of that longing was answered.
Being a BTS
fan has been full of moments like that; and yet, even when their influence
offsets my negative emotions, I still feel that strange swirling sense of
longing, returning as it always has. All of this leads me to yet another word
with its complicated definitions and trappings, one that brings me back to the
core of today’s reflection. At the beginning of the post, I mentioned that the
title of BTS’s new album is Arirang, and this in and of itself has so
many complex meanings that are not only begging to be analyzed, but which speak
to me on a level that is difficult to describe as well.
The word
“Arirang” is a reference to a Korean folk song, its title meaning something
like “beloved one” or “beautiful one,” but it means so much more than that; in
fact, some scholars say that the word actually has no meaning that can be
translated nowadays, making it a truly undefinable word. But the undefinable
and malleable nature of the song goes far beyond this title, for Arirang is not
merely a song with one set of lyrics, one melody, and one use. Rather, it
changes from region to region, across time periods, and even varies depending
on who is singing it. The concept of the Arirang is so unique and diverse that
it is even recognized by UNESCO as being part of Korea’s intangible cultural heritage,
something it shares with many other traditional art forms around the world,
including in North Korea, making it a piece of cultural heritage that exists in
both halves of the otherwise divided country.
Much like
with han, I lack the cultural, social, and historical context to really speak
about why Arirang is so special, but ever since BTS have announced this as
their album title, I have been eager to research and understand the concept as
much as I possibly can. What draws me to the concept of the folk song is not
only how enduring it is and how many varieties there are (some sources say
there are over 3,600 versions that span centuries), but the differences in its
meaning, and how the numerous emotions contained within it share certain
universal themes. Sometimes Arirang represents separation, loss, hardship, and
grief; but sometimes it means resilience, resistance, endurance, and hope.
Sometimes it’s a love song, expressing the joy of connection and reunion; other
times it’s a song about longing and heartache. It can be a song about
friendship, fellowship, and unity. It can be a song about triumph and harmony.
When sung alone it can be about identity, and when sung in a group it can be
about a shared cultural heritage. It can somehow be a song where all of these sometimes-conflicting
emotions come together separately and at once, and I find that both absolutely
fascinating and very, very resonant.
Arirang is a
word, a concept, and a song, but it’s also a shared history; the idea that
BTS’s thoughts and feelings will become a part of this shared history is very exciting
and it evokes so many ideas and feelings within me. It especially feels
relevant to BTS’s return from military service and relevant to the BTS I know –
the young men who have so much to say about the world around us and whose music
is so uplifting. The more I think about it, the more excited I get, and the
more eager I get to see what BTS does with this concept; but just as Arirang
itself can be full of longing and indescribable emotion, that is what I feel
waiting for this album, despite my deep anticipation for it.
While
everything I’ve seen about this concept so far strikes me as incredibly
poignant and beautiful – the exact type of return to form I’ve been hoping for
– I would be lying if I said to you that I can completely surrender myself to
the excitement. Underneath that feeling, there is admittedly a bit of
trepidation, something that I know comes from my own lived experiences over the
years of being an ARMY. Having been in this fandom for six years, I can tell
you it hasn’t always been easy. There’s the usual things you might expect from
a fandom of this size especially when that fandom exists for one of the most
popular bands in the world – petty drama, weird ship wars, people valuing their
favorite individual member of the group (their “bias”) over the other members –
but there are also many things that are so much worse.
BTS have
experienced a great deal of prejudice and discrimination over the years, first
within their own country thanks to originally being outside of the mainstream
K-pop scene, and then in the West as they attempted to find acceptance and
recognition. There has been an intense amount of xenophobia and racism directed
towards them that we as fans try to protect them from, there have been
instances where the media in Korea has tried to turn people against them, there
have been times where other fandoms try to bring them down, etc. Even their
recently completed military service was fraught with people criticizing them,
despite them doing their duty just as every other Korean man is expected to do.
I’ve seen a lot in my six years as ARMY, and I wasn’t even around for some of
the worst of it.
While a huge
majority of ARMY could never possibly understand what it must feel like to be
on the receiving end of these trials, I think a lot of us do know what it feels
like to be actively dismissed and discriminated against, or what it feels like
to always be on the outside looking in. Although that’s not something I
considered on a conscious level when I became a fan of BTS, I’m sure that on a
subconscious level at least, their struggle speaks to me because, in some ways,
these struggles mirror my own. As massive celebrities, the pressure and
hardships BTS have endured over the years are not something I can ever relate
to, nor can I even begin to understand the way they’ve been discriminated
against over the years because of their nationality and language. But I can
relate to being dismissed, denigrated, and pushed aside. And yes, that has even
happened in this fandom, considered by many to be one of the best and most
wholesome fandoms in the world. Therefore, I can’t help but look at this
concept and wonder if I too will be allowed to take this journey or if I will
be pushed aside and left behind, kept forever in this unresolved sense of
longing.
Part of what
makes Arirang as a concept so enduring and part of what makes an indescribable
emotion like han so impactful is that they zero in on the desire to belong and
not knowing how one can do that, which I experience routinely as part of my day
to day life and my existence as an AroAce fangirl. There are numerous times
where my experiences are dismissed and ignored, or where the opinions of people
like me are invalidated because they are not easily understood by other people.
And yet, as much as I am in fear of this new concept – wondering what we’ll get,
if it will be the BTS I remember, if I can find safety in it as I have in
albums of the past – the very idea of Arirang gives me some comfort in this
area because it gives me permission to feel these complicated and sometimes
conflicting emotions. The sense of the unknown going into this new era is
immense, and that’s to be expected. After all, no one knows what life is going
to hold next for them, and that’s just an inevitable fact of living. But the
anticipation reminds me that this type of specific unknown will likely always
be a factor for me, in which I don’t quite know what the future will hold
because I am walking a somewhat unique path.
So too, this
sense of anticipation and the unknown also remind me that I can choose to
embrace these things. It’s okay to embrace the indescribable and/or hard to
define nature of these things, and do likewise when it comes to so many other
elements of my life. There is nothing wrong with this uncertainty, it’s just
something to be felt and explored – something which BTS themselves and their
music have continually taught me to do. As group leader RM once said himself
during a remote speech the group gave during the COVID-19 pandemic (video below), “The fear
of an obscure future…is a moment of realization of the self – the realization
of what makes me the true me.” I think now more than ever I have the challenge
of letting uncertainty shape me, and embracing the sense of joy and dread I
feel moving forward. I think Arirang – the song, the concept, and the album –
really make me understand that that is a vital process I can embrace this year
and every year.
And, of
course, this is something I hope I can remember not just in my fandom life, but
in my regular life as an AroAce person as well. Some days are very difficult
and the journey I’m on feels unfair, but these undefinable emotions remind me
to endure. Being AroAce sometimes leaves me with the same complicated emotions
that can be described by han – anger, grief, a feeling of injustice, a
nostalgia for simpler times, a sense of never being able to right certain
wrongs or have certain things I wish for – but there is also that unshakable
sense of hope that refuses to yield. The fact that these complicated emotional
states always seem to lead back to hope remind me that hope is the most
valuable commodity, and remind me of one of BTS’s own dearly held mottos:
dream, hope, keep going.
Therefore,
no matter what comes, I’m going to keep on hoping, something that I hope (no
pun intended) all people, regardless of identity, are able to do. That’s
something I hope everyone reading this can experience, this year and beyond.
Wishing you all a very special Valentine’s Day, full of whatever love sustains
you and gives you hope in your own life. And, if today is a day of
indescribable emotion for you too, I hope you too can go on a journey to fully
embrace and feel it all, even amid the many uncertainties of life.
With
platonic love,
Rachel, aka
The Asexual Geek



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