Yesterday, after work, I met my closest ARMY friend Mai, who had come all the way from Switzerland. She is a polyglot, fluent in nearly ten languages, and one of the most genuine ARMYs I know. We first connected in 2017, when we both made Twitter accounts around the same time, living on opposite sides of the world. What brought us together so quickly was simple. We see the world the same way, always half full.
Mai has that unassuming kindness that defines the best of ARMY. She doesn’t go looking for conflict, doesn’t step into other people’s spaces to accuse or argue. Instead, she gives. Small gifts, keychains, stickers, photos of BTS. I have gotten my share of them from her. The kind of gestures that can brighten someone’s day, especially when they are going through something difficult. She provides the happiness for many ARMYs.
We spent the late afternoon and the night the way ARMYs often do, laughing and just being goofy. After work, I picked her up near her lodging in Yongsan, not far from the HYBE building, and drove us out to an obscure palace (Joseon kings used to party here) tucked deep in the mountains, a hidden spot most people (not just tourists but also Seoulites) in Korea do not even know exists.
On the way, I suddenly panicked, convinced I had lost my phone, even though I had been using my iPhone’s Naver GPS app and had placed it right on the car’s center stack so I could see the directions clearly. It was right there in front of me the whole time. Mai laughed and laughed. Later, on the way back, since my phone was running low on battery, we switched to using hers for GPS and placed it in the same spot on the center stack. Then, after a little while, unbelievably, the same thing happened to her. She started searching frantically for her phone, only for me to point at it sitting right in front of us. We laughed the entire drive, joking that this kind of ARMY silliness would probably stay with us even when we become dope old ARMYs in their 70s.
But the conversation did not stay light the entire time. Like a true friend, Mai also told me something I needed to hear. She had read my recent post, the one where I responded sharply to people accusing me of profiting off BTS. She told me to stop. Not because I was wrong, but because it was a waste of my time and energy. The people making those accusations, she said, would not change no matter how nicely and reasonably I responded.
At first, I tried to explain. I could tolerate being misunderstood, even being called a SUGA hater, but accusations of illegal profit were different. They crossed a line. I told her that a lawyer ARMY in LA had advised me to sue them for libel, since it damages my reputation and can be taken seriously in court.
Mai stayed firm. Focus on the people who come to you in good faith, she said. The ones who read your writing because they care. She emphasized that I came back for these true ARMYs. The ones who are spreading lies and won’t change, she told me, won’t get to read my deep dive into BTS lyrics. Their loss.
By the time I dropped her off and drove home, I felt lighter. Grateful, not just for the laughter we shared, but for the clarity she gave me.
I’ll still act if push comes to shove, but I’ll try to follow her advice.
For those who came here for Normal, thank you for your patience. I didn’t mean to write so long about my meeting with a fellow ARMY. Well, this song is Mai’s favorite track from the Arirang album, and it is one that stays with you long after it ends.
Normal opens with a psychedelic guitar line, grounded by a heavy kick and snare that anchor the song with a deliberate weight. The sound feels restrained, almost as if it is holding something back. That restraint becomes part of the emotion. The repetition creates an emptiness, a sense of something unresolved that lingers beneath the surface.
Lyrically, the song mirrors that feeling. It does not try to decorate emotion or make it more palatable. Instead, it pulls back the curtain on what exists behind the spectacle. The glittering stage, the spotlight, the applause, all of it is still there, but so is the emptiness that follows. What once felt extraordinary has become routine. What once felt unreal has somehow turned into everyday life.
In that sense, Normal shares thematic ground with Merry Go Round, but it moves differently. Where Merry Go Round leans toward reflection, Normal feels more direct, almost confrontational.
At the center of the song is an unsettling question: what does “normal” even mean? The opening lines set the tone immediately, pairing “kerosene” with “dopamine.” Kerosene suggests volatility, something flammable and dangerous, while dopamine represents pleasure, reward, and addiction. Together, they describe a life built on stimulation, where intensity replaces stability, and feeling becomes something manufactured rather than lived.
As the song continues, “fantasy and fame” enter the frame, pointing directly to BTS’s own reality. What began as a dream has become something much larger, something harder to separate from identity itself. The line does not romanticize that transformation. Instead, it questions it.
Then comes the refrain that runs through the entire song: “No, we call this shit normal.” It is one of the most notable choices BTS has made lyrically. The use of the expletive is not casual. It sharpens the irony. What should feel unnatural, overwhelming, even damaging, is accepted without question. It is labeled as normal.
That line carries the weight of the entire song. It is not just about BTS. It reflects something broader, something many people feel but rarely articulate. The idea that the more we adapt, the more we normalize what should not be normal at all.
The second verse deepens this tension. The lyrics move into the psychological cost of fame, the pressure of constant attention, the blurred sense of self that comes from living under public scrutiny. These are not abstract ideas. They are grounded in lived experience. The words feel stripped down, almost raw, as if there is no space left for metaphor:
How I’m ‘posed to feel?
Used to think that I was built with a heart made of steel
Now I understand the truth, some pain don’t heal
If everything’s just happy, mm, that ain’t real
I breathe everything out like a thousand times
Normal and special, they are just some lines
One deep sigh, then it slips away, fades away
What I try to keep never want to stay
Runaway, pushin’ me, pullin’ me,
said you wanted all of me
But what is even all of me?
Suddenly, part of me is hauntin’ me,
heard the things they callin’ me
What the hell you want from me?
What makes Normal especially powerful is its refusal to soften these edges. The song does not offer resolution. It does not suggest that things will improve or that clarity will come with time. Instead, it stays within the discomfort.
Even the imagery of chasing truth carries weight. The more one seeks it, the heavier it becomes: “Heavy is the head when chasin’ true.” That idea resonates far beyond the song itself. It reflects a broader condition of modern life, where awareness does not always bring relief, and understanding can sometimes deepen the burden.
To sum it up, Normal is a song that refuses to hide the emptiness behind brilliance. It does not decorate emotion or reshape it into something easier to accept. Instead, it captures the texture of the present moment, the pressure, the numbness, the contradictions we learn to live with.
That is why it will stay with ARMY for a long time. Not because it offers answers, but because it tells the truth without looking away.
Many of the songs on the Arirang album are in English, which I personally like. For my online community friends here in Korea, I have been translating the songs into Korean, something that has been both new and meaningful for me. Until now, my work has gone in the opposite direction, translating BTS’s Korean lyrics into English.
As a translator, I take this process seriously. I once spent two years translating an English history book into Korean, work that was recognized with an award from the Korean government’s Ministry of Culture. I approached the songs in the Arirang album with that same care.
There is one line that requires particular attention, though: “No, we call this shit normal.” The Genius Korean translation softened it into “이걸 (yi-guhl),” which is something closer to “this thing.” Without the expletive, it loses the force of the original. The expletive is not incidental. It is essential. It carries the irony, the frustration, the emotional weight of the entire message.
That is why I chose to translate it as “이런 짓 (yi-luhn jiht)” It preserves the tension the original line is meant to hold. In Korea, If you want to tell someone emphatically ‘not to do this kind of shit,’ you would say, “이런 짓 하지 마. (yi-luhn jiht hah-jih mah).”
I won’t go into all the details of why I translated each line the way I did, like I did with my Korean friends. That would probably get a bit tedious for you. But I did want to point out this part, because the expletive really matters in this song.
Korean Lyrics:
코러스 (정국, 지민, 진, 뷔):
케로신, 도파민, 화학적인 자극들
환상과 명성, 우리가 택한 것들
증오를 보여줘, 사랑도, 난 방탄이 되지
그래, 우린 이 짓을 평범함이라 부르지
도망가, 시야 밖으로, 나는 뭘 원하나
단 1분만이라도 놔버리고 싶어
케로신, 도파민, 난 뭘 해야지?
그래, 우린 이 짓을 평범함이라 부르지
벌스 1 (지민):
진실을 좇는 머리는 무겁지
날 붉게 물들일거야?
날 푸르게 물들일거야?
동전의 양면, 둘 다 진짜가 아닌데
나한텐 다를까?
너한텐 다를까?
프리코러스 (뷔, 정국):
느끼는 낯선 감정들, 그 모든 걸 견뎌내
나와 내 감정들을 벽으로 몰아세우고
무릎 꿇게 만들지
코러스 (정국, 지민, 진, 뷔):
케로신, 도파민, 화학적인 자극들
환상과 명성, 우리가 택한 것들
증오를 보여줘, 사랑도, 난 방탄이 돼지
그래, 우린 이 짓을 평범함이라 부르지
도망가, 시야 밖으로, 나는 뭘 원하나
단 1분만이라도 놔버리고 싶어
케로신, 도파민, 난 뭘 해야지?
그래, 우린 이 짓을 평범함이라 부르지
벌스 2 (제이홉, 슈가, 알엠):
난 뭘 느껴야 하나?
강철같은 심장을 가진 줄 알았지
근데 이젠 알겠어, 어떤 상처는 낫지 않는단 걸
마냥 행복하기만 하면, 그건 가짜지
수천 번 토해내듯 숨을 쉬어
평범함과 특별함, 그저 선일 뿐
깊은 한숨 한 번, 그러면 빠져나가고 희미해지지
지키려 했던 것들은 절대 머무르려 하지 않지
도망쳐, 날 밀어내고 끌어당기지
내 모든 걸 원한다고 했지
근데 내 모든 게 대체 뭔데?
문득 내 안의 일부가 날 무섭게 해
그들이 날 부르는 소리가 들려
젠장 내게서 뭘 원하는데?
프리코러스 (뷔, 정국):
느끼는 낯선 감정들, 그 모든 걸 견뎌내
나와 내 감정들을 벽으로 몰아세우고
무릎 꿇게 만들지
코러스 (정국, 지민, 진, 뷔):
케로신, 도파민, 화학적인 자극들
환상과 명성, 우리가 택한 것들
증오를 보여줘, 사랑도, 난 방탄이 돼지
그래, 우린 이 짓을 평범함이라 부르지
도망가, 시야 밖으로, 나는 뭘 원하나
단 1분만이라도 놔버리고 싶어
케로신, 도파민, 난 뭘 해야지?
그래, 우린 이 짓을 평범함이라 부르지
아웃트로 (진):
아냐 아냐 아냐, 우린 이런 짓을 평범함이라 부르지
아냐 아냐 아냐, 우린 이런 짓을 평범함이라 부르지
아냐 아냐 아냐, 우린 이런 짓을 평범함이라 부르지