An Open Letter to G-Dragon

Before reading this entry, you should probably check out the first blog I wrote in regards to him. This will make a lot more sense.

Dear Kwon Ji-Yong,

I am writing this to inform you that you win. You win, damn it. I'm not going to fight it anymore.

I tried so hard to keep you in my "rainy day" box, shunning you to the deepest depths of my mind. Yet you somehow snuck out of the abyss, hitting me with such a force, wherein it truly makes me believe I never even had a chance when it came to you.

Your songs have been stuck in my head for the past five days. Yes, five days. It doesn't matter what else I listen to, you're still there. Your sex voice is like an orgasm to my ears, and I cannot listen to "Breathe" without cursing your name. Why did you have to say, "I know you want it, baby," Ji-Yong? Did you realize that it would send dirty-minded girls, like me, into a total state of baby-making-mood? I think you did realize it when you wrote it, and I think you get some sort of sick pleasure from the whole thing. You're quite dirty-minded yourself, love.

I tried fighting the attraction I felt toward you, toward you and your male-Korean-Lady Gaga ways that you ever so proudly flaunted in "Heartbreaker." I tried resisting the urge, the need within me, to look past your platinum, bleached hair. I am a firm believer that Asian men should never ever EVER have blonde hair ... but you seem to be the only exception. I am fully accepting of your insanely-bright-hair-color. It puzzles me endlessly, and I am convinced that if you were to ever return to your natural, dark roots, your sex appeal would diminish. Secretly, I want you to keep the blonde. And I hate myself for that.

I kept telling myself, "No, don't go there. Just leave it alone." I can't do that, though. You should be proud of yourself, as I am, self-professed, the most stubborn person on the planet. Your conquest over my willpower is admirable, yet I loathe you for the absolute control you have over me by the utterance of a few English words.

I am a sucker for English in Asian-based songs. You, my dear Ji-Yong, have a plethora of that. Every time I hear you rap in "What's Up (The Leaders)" I have to stop what I'm doing. I cannot handle your perfectly-accented-English. Really, I didn't stand a chance against you. I shouldn't have even listened to your songs to begin with, I should have said no. Just like I would say if I were being offered drugs. Because you are a drug, Ji. I was already addicted to K-Pop, working on overcoming it. Congratulations, you single handedly destroyed that goal.

If I sound bitter, it's because I am. I have such a dislike toward you, but at the same time, I am totally in love with you and your bizarre, unexplainable power over me. It is a love-hate relationship that I feel toward you.

I love you when you say amazing things in your songs, lyrics that make me wish that I was born a Korean citizen so I would be living in South Korea and I could stalk you and obsess over you properly, rather than doing it from half a world away. But I hate it when your words repeat over and over in my head throughout the day, literally driving me insane and taking over my mind. I hate how your sexually-charged lyrics pop into my mind, making me think wickedly dirty thoughts in what can only be classified as the most inappropriate times during the day.

"Love it or hate it. You hate but you love it."
You're absolutely right.

Even though I said I wasn't going to compile the BIGBANG edition of the "Baby-Daddy-To-Be" List until Taeyang's single was released, I feel extremely confident in saying that you will be the only one on that list. Congratulations, Future Baby Daddy.

Kwon Ji-Yong, I love you ... but, understandably, I hate you all at the same time. You win, I fail. I fail miserably.

Your Future Baby Mama,

The K-Pop Addict