ON: An Analysis of Visual Storytelling (Preface)

First, let me start off by saying that I have never met BTS in person. I ALMOST had the opportunity to go to a fan meeting last year but the tickets sold out so fast, I wasn't given priority in any way shape or form simply because I don't belong to any fan clubs that are given a heads up in advance.

But I feel very deeply within me, a connection to these boys. Not only to them, but I give them a lot of attention because everything isn't as sparkly and shiny as is presented on the surface. Behind the Scenes, these are beautiful but very flawed creatures, being broken into molds that they don't fit and controlled and enforced to the point of near-slavery.


That being said, I have had psychic conversations with members here or there. I've had multiple lucid dreams that involved conversations and interactions with them that felt like they were right there with me. Lately, I'm aware that their collective depression about having almost no freedom or control over their own lives is manifesting in micro rebellions in doing anything they can to assert themselves as an individual. Lately, the music is taking on darker tones, and I'm sure their fanbase is noticing, but their lisztomaniacal fanaticism is so intense that they don't understand that a major contributor of BTS' depression is their so-called ARMY.

You don't have to believe it or accept it, but there's no way BTS would ever say it, so I will. The fans drive the rate of their production. I've moved at least 7 times in the past 5 years and I'm exhausted. So I wonder how they do it every few days. Different countries, traveling the world where everything and everyone start to look the same, and they rarely make connections with people that matter, because they can't maintain them. How much stuff have they lost, I wonder?Headphones, jewelry, trinkets, souvenirs, etc...

But I digress. I'm actually writing this post to dig into the ON music video. As much as I love the visual kei of BTS' music videos they don't always make sense to me. I know there's an overarching theme that drives the plot and direction of their actual lives, like a movie- which is part of the reason I often feel like (somebody, I won't mention who), is beside themselves with rage, screaming with fury so intense it could set fire to a citadel, only for the cry to come out silent and his moods to be quantified as "ambiguous".

I won't say who. I'll allow you to guess as I tell you why he is this way.

He has a darkness to him. Not just in features; his darkness runs deep and old as the river Styx. He's young now, but a new vessel doesn't negate his ancient soul. He's like me only in that he's got a past that traces back as far to the beginning of civilization as we can remember, but our memories aren't actually memories at all. 3-5000 years ago is a long time to try and hold on to in terms of "memories". Our hard-drives have been wiped and repurposed innumerable times since then, but our "memories" aren't driven by pictures of our experiences. They're simply felt, from the beginning- to the present moment. Our perception, from within-outward, and the reaction that people have to us, that never. fucking. changes.

It's how we know who we are,  even without having the words to explain it to those who can't possibly understand what it's like to be born into a world that was never meant for you. Nephilim.

In the old days 50/50 was the definition. Half Angel/Asura or god (with the little g) and half human.

Whatever you want to call them, because they were from different clans as well. They had races even among themselves. This person and I came from different brands of this realm that crossed bloodlines in Egypt. So we go way back.

The problem is, and was, back in those days there was no such thing as "What to expect when you're expecting" with Nephilim. The results were unpredictable. A lot of old Greek myths have tales of people with superpowers like Heracles strength, or Orpheus talent, or Atalanta's speed, but there were downsides, like Goliath's giant growth, or sometimes, they would be born still OR too grotesque to look at; if they were afforded survival, they'd make a living as oracles or gnarled hermits hidden away from society.

The point is, we were never afforded the same rights as humans even as we were born superior. Which was why God with the big G outlawed angels from copulating with humans. But 50% gets whittled down to fractions of what it was in the beginning until we all look like everyone else. After thousands of years of watering down our blood with mostly other humans, since we were a mixed race of beings that often wasn't afforded reproduction simply based on the combination of our genes mostly making us sterile, there was a very small percentage of us that perpetuated our lineage all the way into the present day.

We are rare. Very rare. And our blood doesn't tell the story of our Angel ancestry, just like our memories don't actually show us what is remembered. It's simply the soul that carries the weight of the anchor that touches the bottom of the deepest part of the ocean and we remain, swimming, head barely above water, unable to see how much weight anyone else is carrying. We don't realize how heavy our own existence is, because we are ourselves. We simply assume everyone feels this way. I know I used to, until I saw my chains buried in the sand, for myself, during meditation. I wasn't bound to them, but they were bound to me, and I drag them, attached to something massive and impossibly heavy as an entire tomb buried underneath an entire desert's worth of sand. Just lil ol' me. Dredging up maybe a millimeter with every step I take forward in my life.

I remember certain things I could never tell a human being because they'd call me crazy, delusional or vainglorious.

He remembers things and dismisses them as his imagination because when his old self is present, it's so intense that humans around him react antagonistically. It manifests as insecurity in humans, almost instinctively, like they must protect themselves as if they could be burnt by your glow. It's pre-emptive, they first say or do things to try and poke holes in your ego. It could be just the look on your face, or in your eyes but somehow there's a pressure that accompanies it that makes them feel like they should respect you more; but when their pride wins out, it manifests as disrespect through passive aggression. It's hard to explain. But it's reflective of their psyche and one of the major reasons this world was never habitable for our kind. We literally have legacy royal souls, but royalty doesn't matter anymore. There are no such things as Kings or Queens, especially through divine right, in this world. So when the pressure is felt empathically, instead of giving in, humans would rather assert their dominance over the concept by trying to make our souls feel smaller.

It makes it hard for us to understand you, and why we speak in ways that almost seem abstract. Words are not our first language. Empathy is. But that offends you worse than anything and is why we mostly avoid eye contact that looks too deep into your soul. We've been like this as far back as we can remember. People thought we might be autistic or mentally challenged in some way, but in actuality, we always knew, from a very young age that we held power in our eyes that made people feel uncomfortable.

Another thing I've come to realize is there's an effect I've coined "Angel Dust". It's not like the drug per se, but it does have physiological effects on humans near us. It's like this: We're sexy. We're not doing it on purpose, we're just having inner conversations and sometimes the conclusions that we come to or the intensity of our intelligence, even if we're not outwardly engaging in conversation, has a karmic effect that makes people attracted to us simply because we're ballers (in karmic wealth). For me, since I'm not famous or iconic by media standards, it's easy to control, by informing people that they're not gay or weird when they they find themselves fantasizing about me sexually and that I'm not offended by it, because It's simply a sign that they're impressed by my intellect.

To be fair, pure Asura/Angels can control and manipulate their effect. I've been subjected to it, and I felt like a wild animal when it happened to me. My actions completely defied logic and was completely fueled by lust. I don't know if that was his intention, but I learned that the glittery perfumed feeling of it is a glamour that is designed to put humans in awe so that they can be more easily manipulated.

For us who are more human in the flesh, the effect is not controllable, unless we try and appear less appealing by making ourselves smaller. For him in particular, it's incredibly intense because people throw themselves at him in an aggressive fashion, misreading the intensity of his eyes. He simply exists in a position of power, from the inside out, and even in trying to hide it, there are moments where he peeks out causing avalanches of obsession. It's troublesome. People think it would be nice to have a power like that, but the manifestation of it, particularly for him, has disappointing effects when he meets his idols or people he looks up to, only to be disappointed at how desperately they want to possess him.

King shit, am I right? But seriously, it just makes him want to cry.

We pretend to be human. Poorly. But we try very hard. Softening ourselves to fit into the social structures that vary from person to person. Trying to restrain our abstraction to identify with what is objective or quantifiable logic to man, even when his rules are subject to change on a whim. We don't understand you, but you are predictable in your contradictory ways; So we at least know that you will disappoint us. And it keeps us alive, by knowing just not to be surprised at your hypocrisy.

It's odd for somebody like us to be in the spotlight. For so long, ever since the cautionary tales of the ones who were tortured and killed by burning or crucifixion, we've shied away from the spotlight. But as the world grows more callous and incredulous of our existence, we continue to try and find our place in a world where we were never supposed to exist in the first place.

Who do you think I'm talking about?

The fallen angel? I hate it so much when they put contact lenses on him. It feels like blatant disrespect to soften the intensity of the god in him. So much so, that he almost forgets himself. But he can't forget, no matter how much he tries to fit in and be "normal" he's constantly reminded by the weight of his anchor stretching back to the beginning of his conception, that he is not human. It hurts, not that we're royalty or superior, but that we live in a world that hates those concepts into submission. And we can't help it, because we just exist on a dimensional wavelength a little higher than yours, and have to reduce ourselves just to try and communicate with you through tongues. It's a little primitive. And a lot debasing.

Anyway, his bloodline is rare, but I've seen a few of the templates scattered about. Some are still asleep. But the force is strong with this one, maybe because his lineage has crossed with other brands of Asura/Angels that strengthened his connection with the source.

This was not supposed to be this long....Ugh. But for context, I'll break this into two parts.