I am tired of living a life based on hiding from true reality and one founded on the spreading of lies and mistruths. For most of my life, and especially since coming to Korea, I have led one campaign of coverup after another. I have finally come to a place where I'm prepared to tell my deepest and darkest secrets - things unknown to even my family and closest friends. For so long, I haven't allowed myself the utter relief that this revealing process will certainly deliver, by constantly repressing the desire to disclose the actual facts and own my mistakes. In hindsight, my failure to uncover these truths has only furthered the concealment of the monkeys on my back, and served to increase their weight. I am aware that my inaction has been attributed to a fear of possible judgment or lack of acceptance, and I have finally resigned myself to accept the power of healing as well as any potential consequences this may cause.
So where to start? Well, as they typically do, things began rather innocently. Out of a need to maintain a sense of normalcy and holding onto routine in the only way I knew, I joined a local **sigh** gym in the early part of last year. As events progressed and life unfolded, I started paying more and more frequent visits. First, it was the lure of the treadmill. Then, it was the bench press. And eventually, I even gave in to the, dare I say it, the kettle bells. Yes... I am, without a doubt, as disgusted as you surely also must be right now and no acceptable excuse legitimizes my despicable actions.
The hardest part of revealing this shameful habit is reminding myself of all the ways I have caused irreparable harm to so many people. The countless nights that I selfishly left barstools vacant, incalculable numbers of kegs untapped and cigarette packages unopened.. Oh god, the damage that I have caused! Will I ever be forgiven?
In my defense, this inclination originally struck me after I fell victim to an insidious scheme perpetuated by many so-called experts. I ignorantly believed doctors and exercise specialists as they spouted hair-brained theories; hackneyed dogma which said things such as how physical exercise promotes self-improvement and -satisfaction, when this shameful practice is, in reality, really only one performed out of arrogance and an unnaturally false conception of independence. Others told me that exercise would provide a relief from stress. Pfsssh!! I've never heard a belief organized around such an unproven and inadequately tested concept! They also duped me into believing that exercise would allow me to remain mentally stable and motivated. What insane notions!
To boot, my addiction to exercise hasn't been my sole vice during these trying times. There has been a more sinister, more pernicious demon lurking beneath my seemingly fanciful expressions and accepting eyes. I hate to admit it, but I'm a recovering norebanger. You may not be aware of this debilitating condition, so let me describe the practice and hopefully bring awareness to this oft-overlooked subject.
Norebang, or what some may slyly refer to as 노래방, was originally a victimless Korean pastime breaking from the traditional, conservative ways of Japanese-style karaoke. In the abundant 'singing room' establishments throughout the country, patrons are assigned to individual rooms for them and any number of guests, and given the minimum of an hour to make song selections, all while gleefully playing tambourines and drumming on any object in sight. The practice of norebang boasts modest beginnings - whose only purpose was to offer stressed Koreans an opportunity of amusement and expression.
However, norebang later adopted an evil side and has now led to a huge number of interrupted lives and fractured homes throughout the continent. This insidious monster has brought with it just enough comfort to gain entrance into people's hearts & minds, slowly destroyed the trust that it built, and left a trail of withered souls in its path. I advise everyone with whom I come into contact to never even consider 'trying' it out, for it is the quintessential wolf in sheep's clothing. And furthermore, anyone who asks you to give it a shot is not your friend and cannot be trusted.
Some might tell you that norebang is an excellent outlet for creativity. Don't believe them; and remember that you could just as easily take part in an alternate & less dehumanizing form of entertainment. These same people may attempt to mislead you by saying norebang affords you a chance to see friends in new & exciting settings (when any moron knows that you should easily remain content by just visiting people in the usual establishments). Other snake oil they might try to sell is that norebang provides momentary sensations of ecstasy - when it is essential to remember that however real these feelings might appear, they are artificial. You must simply become adept at creating happiness out of any routine, however tedious or boring it may seem.
Earlier, attention was drawn to the fact that I am indeed a recuperating norebanger, intending to someday reclaim a normal life for myself. Personally, American karaoke became a gateway activity that led to my ultimate downfall. Not many people know this: but in a former life, I was a contentedly ordinary guy. It wasn't until moving to Asia when I realized that I had a serious problem. After the chronic late nights and constant reminders of smelling to high heaven of microphones, I knew something had to be done. Friday, September 23rd was the last day that I partook, when I was met with an especially irritated vision in my dreams that night. The next morning, I posthaste enrolled in the local community center's NA (Norebangers Anonymous) chapter and began attending the weekly meetings.
I am pleased to announce that last week I was awarded the coveted Ruby Hiker's Pole, signifying completion of the 11th out of 12 stages in the program. Tonight, I will attempt the final stage of the program, whose goal is to reintroduce a sustainable form of norebang into a person's life. It will be a grand event where I hope to prove to myself and the world that I am able to cope with this struggle and maintain a sense of composure through our dealings. Please pray for me as I venture into uncharted territory, for I know not what the future holds...
So where to start? Well, as they typically do, things began rather innocently. Out of a need to maintain a sense of normalcy and holding onto routine in the only way I knew, I joined a local **sigh** gym in the early part of last year. As events progressed and life unfolded, I started paying more and more frequent visits. First, it was the lure of the treadmill. Then, it was the bench press. And eventually, I even gave in to the, dare I say it, the kettle bells. Yes... I am, without a doubt, as disgusted as you surely also must be right now and no acceptable excuse legitimizes my despicable actions.
The hardest part of revealing this shameful habit is reminding myself of all the ways I have caused irreparable harm to so many people. The countless nights that I selfishly left barstools vacant, incalculable numbers of kegs untapped and cigarette packages unopened.. Oh god, the damage that I have caused! Will I ever be forgiven?
In my defense, this inclination originally struck me after I fell victim to an insidious scheme perpetuated by many so-called experts. I ignorantly believed doctors and exercise specialists as they spouted hair-brained theories; hackneyed dogma which said things such as how physical exercise promotes self-improvement and -satisfaction, when this shameful practice is, in reality, really only one performed out of arrogance and an unnaturally false conception of independence. Others told me that exercise would provide a relief from stress. Pfsssh!! I've never heard a belief organized around such an unproven and inadequately tested concept! They also duped me into believing that exercise would allow me to remain mentally stable and motivated. What insane notions!
To boot, my addiction to exercise hasn't been my sole vice during these trying times. There has been a more sinister, more pernicious demon lurking beneath my seemingly fanciful expressions and accepting eyes. I hate to admit it, but I'm a recovering norebanger. You may not be aware of this debilitating condition, so let me describe the practice and hopefully bring awareness to this oft-overlooked subject.
Norebang, or what some may slyly refer to as 노래방, was originally a victimless Korean pastime breaking from the traditional, conservative ways of Japanese-style karaoke. In the abundant 'singing room' establishments throughout the country, patrons are assigned to individual rooms for them and any number of guests, and given the minimum of an hour to make song selections, all while gleefully playing tambourines and drumming on any object in sight. The practice of norebang boasts modest beginnings - whose only purpose was to offer stressed Koreans an opportunity of amusement and expression.
However, norebang later adopted an evil side and has now led to a huge number of interrupted lives and fractured homes throughout the continent. This insidious monster has brought with it just enough comfort to gain entrance into people's hearts & minds, slowly destroyed the trust that it built, and left a trail of withered souls in its path. I advise everyone with whom I come into contact to never even consider 'trying' it out, for it is the quintessential wolf in sheep's clothing. And furthermore, anyone who asks you to give it a shot is not your friend and cannot be trusted.
Some might tell you that norebang is an excellent outlet for creativity. Don't believe them; and remember that you could just as easily take part in an alternate & less dehumanizing form of entertainment. These same people may attempt to mislead you by saying norebang affords you a chance to see friends in new & exciting settings (when any moron knows that you should easily remain content by just visiting people in the usual establishments). Other snake oil they might try to sell is that norebang provides momentary sensations of ecstasy - when it is essential to remember that however real these feelings might appear, they are artificial. You must simply become adept at creating happiness out of any routine, however tedious or boring it may seem.
Earlier, attention was drawn to the fact that I am indeed a recuperating norebanger, intending to someday reclaim a normal life for myself. Personally, American karaoke became a gateway activity that led to my ultimate downfall. Not many people know this: but in a former life, I was a contentedly ordinary guy. It wasn't until moving to Asia when I realized that I had a serious problem. After the chronic late nights and constant reminders of smelling to high heaven of microphones, I knew something had to be done. Friday, September 23rd was the last day that I partook, when I was met with an especially irritated vision in my dreams that night. The next morning, I posthaste enrolled in the local community center's NA (Norebangers Anonymous) chapter and began attending the weekly meetings.
I am pleased to announce that last week I was awarded the coveted Ruby Hiker's Pole, signifying completion of the 11th out of 12 stages in the program. Tonight, I will attempt the final stage of the program, whose goal is to reintroduce a sustainable form of norebang into a person's life. It will be a grand event where I hope to prove to myself and the world that I am able to cope with this struggle and maintain a sense of composure through our dealings. Please pray for me as I venture into uncharted territory, for I know not what the future holds...
