The Unbearable Lightness of Being Addicted

"Theatre is a form of happiness interrupted by life" -- Pino Caruso, Italian actor and dramatist


Caruso clearly had Shakespeare or Moliere in mind, but we all have a wide enough imagination which enables us to make this profound sentence fit perfectly to our lives. A few days ago a friend said she wished she could spend the day watching dramas, but - alas! - her life has came between with all its irksome duties, including meals, sleep, and house chores.

She isn’t alone, though; the last time I checked, MDL had 28,599, writing from almost every corner of the planet - I think some are from a different galaxy, but we certainly don't discriminate. Human, Martian, or Visitors, we are all united by a common trait: our addiction to everything Asian. And I’m ready to bet most of them would rather watch a drama than meet a deadline.

So, it was by an almost unavoidable process that I came to ask myself whether there were a way to recognize one another. Should we one day meet on the road, find ourselves at the same bar, on the same plane, be forever immortalized on a random photograph by an unknown tourist, would we pick out a fellow drama addicted?

Sharpen your eyes and wits! Look around and you may recognize some of the following:

We expect people to piggyback-ride us to the next bus stop. When it doesn't happen, we run across the entire city to meet someone at the airport and express our undying love five minutes before the plane takes off.





We bow our thanks on the phone.

We don't switch off our mobile phones, we throw them against the wall and then take off the battery for good measure.

We are the only women on the planet who wish they had smaller breasts in order to shop at pinkygirl.co.kr.

We are incredibly knowledgeable in all sorts of incurable diseases and weird syndromes, from the most common amnesia (yes, amnesia is common) to the rarely heard about prosopagnosia.

We are the ones who know a tongue-twister in Korean and use it when we should be having an intelligent conversation but all we can think of is whether Lee Min Ho will time jump to the future.




We have our own vocabulary: we don't talk about friendship, we talk of bromance; when taken by surprise, we exclaim: ‘Omo’ and say goodbye to one another with a cheerful ‘ja ne’!

I tried ‘Tadaima!’ the other day, but my man didn't reply ‘Okaeri’. Uncooperative husband...

Our dreams are filled with Shotas, Makis, JunKis, Bins, Yamapis, and Gong Yoos. While other couples are satisfied with a simple I love you, we will never, ever surrender to any suitor unless they tell us "whether you're a man or an alien, I don't care anymore". The snobbiest among us may even raise their chin and declare in their best Victorian tone: " I give you permission to like me."

A marathon isn't a long-distance running of 42 km + a few metres, but a non-stop drama watching of 42 episodes + special.

A triangle isn't a geometrical figure, but a love prerequisite.


Our weeks begin with the first airing drama episode and end when it is finally subbed.

When we don't hear from a friend for some time, we imagine (s)he is immersed in drama watching. If not, they are definitely going through a slump, since they can neither cultivate other hobbies, nor have a life.

When we aren't watching an episode, we are discussing an episode. When we aren't discussing an episode, we are reviewing one.

When we aren't reviewing an episode, we are flipping through the kissing booth thread. You never know... there could be a hint to an episode we have missed.

We all have a fringe and try hard to be kawaii, even at 56.



This odd stream of consciousness started with a quotation, it seems fit to end it the same way.

"In theatre we live for real a script which others badly act in real life." -- Eduardo de Filippo