This is Part 2 of my 18-Day Diary — a personal project that began as a writing challenge and quickly turned into something much more intimate: a record of healing, rediscovery, and the quiet power of music. If you missed Part 1, you can read it here.

In this second set of journal entries, I continue exploring themes like memory, youth, and love, filtered through G-Dragon’s music and my personal journey with anxiety and recovery. Some moments are loud and joyful, others quiet and reflective, but each one has helped me reconnect with myself.

Here’s what the next six days of reflection brought up for me.

Day 7 – Memory

These journal entries are just my reflections, documenting my journey to find joy again. Sometimes that joy comes in quiet, steady ways. Other times, it bursts in all at once, unexpected and bright. One of my favourite memories this year was exactly like that: the day the Ubermensch album was released. I woke up on a chilly February morning, brewed a strong cup of coffee, and started streaming the album with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

It began with Power and Home Sweet Home, familiar tracks that grounded me, before diving into the new songs. The album’s boldness caught me off guard — sharp, brilliant lyrics that demanded attention and reflection. Each track felt intentional and layered, like a puzzle worth sitting with. I listened again and again, pulled deeper into the complexity and creativity of it all.

That afternoon, I was deep in group chats and comment threads, freaking out with new friends I’d met online. We dissected lyrics, gushed over visuals, and laughed at our collective excitement. It reminded me that music doesn’t just fill silence — it builds connection. That day, an album helped create a new, fun memory.

Day 8 – Song

A few days after Ubermensch was released, G-Dragon performed Drama and Too Bad live for the first time on M! Countdown. I watched the live stream from my sofa, blanket over my lap, eyes fixed on the screen.

He opened with Drama, stripped back and raw, the performance was full of emotion. You could feel the ache in his voice, the weight behind each lyric. There was a tenderness to it that caught me off guard. He didn’t hide the hurt — he carried it carefully, letting the audience witness something deeply human. Then came Too Bad, and the energy completely shifted. It was playful, bold, and full of dancing and charm. Watching the two back to back was like witnessing two entirely different sides of the same person — both equally real, both equally powerful.

That contrast stayed with me. There’s something in the softness of Drama that lingers — the way it lets sadness exist without shame, like it’s okay to feel fragile sometimes. Then Too Bad bursts in like a reminder that joy still lives here, too.

Some days I feel more like one than the other, and that’s okay. My mood changes from day to day, and I find myself reaching for the song that fits that moment.

Day 9 – Boy

When I first saw the fan cams from G-Dragon’s comeback concert in Seoul, I couldn’t stop watching. The weather had been cold and windy, but the crowd didn’t seem to care. They stood for hours, waving their daisy light sticks high, their faces lit with joy and something deeper. And then he appeared. Draped in a jacket made of dozens of red silk roses, crowned once again, he took the stage like he never left. It wasn’t just a concert — it felt like a full announcement: I’m back. Powerful, stylish, completely himself.

On Day 2, the wind hadn’t eased up, and at one point, G-Dragon sang in an oversized robe thrown over his outfit — part fashion, part survival. But even wrapped up, he shone. During his performance of “Last Dance,” something incredible happened: Taeyang and Daesung walked out onto the stage. You could see the surprise and joy ripple across his face — he practically lit up. The three of them sang together, arms around each other, laughing, grinning, hugging like no time had passed.

Watching them, I thought about how they were once just little boys, dreaming of standing on a stage like that. And here they were — still together, still shining.

As I watched the clips over and over, a dream began to form. I wanted to be there, not behind a screen, but in that crowd, light stick in hand, heart wide open. One day, I want to experience it for myself, not watching online, but living in the moment.

Day 10 – Daisy

There’s a particular kind of chaos that comes with being a fan from a different time zone. For me, it meant setting my alarm for 1:45 a.m., fumbling in the dark to refresh the page, heart racing, hoping the site wouldn’t crash. The “DAY-G “— G-Dragon’s Daisy-shaped light stick — was finally going on sale. I ordered not just the light stick, but also the matching cradle and a mini light stick keychain. I’d seen photos online of how beautiful the light stick looked, resting in its little flowerpot cradle. I didn’t think I had much of a chance, but I tried anyway. Somehow, after a few panicked clicks and a frozen checkout screen, I got everything. I sat there in the dark, stunned and smiling, like I’d just won a prize.

When everything arrived weeks later, it was even more beautiful in person, with the option to glow in classic white or shift into soft multicoloured light. The full-size light stick sits upright in its cradle. Like a daisy blooming in a little flowerpot, and the mini version stands right beside it. Two daisies on the shelf, next to my very first photocard.

It’s simple, but it means something: a small corner of my room claimed by something new and joyful. Now they shine quietly on my shelf, a sign that I’m part of a new fandom. I am a K-pop fan.

Day 11 – Youth

Over the last few months, social media has become a surprisingly bright spot in my life. It started with the release of the Ubermensch album — replying to a few comments under posts, resharing a meme here and there, and chatting about the new tracks. Then a group chat was formed, and the conversations grew longer. We swap memes, and fan cams from the concerts, and get genuinely excited when @8lo8lo8lowme posts new photos on Instagram. What started as a casual interaction quickly became something I looked forward to every day — a place where I felt connected, included, and part of something.

I’m the eldest in our little group, and at first, I was hesitant, unsure if I’d seem out of place. But no one treated me any differently. We laugh, we tease, we get dramatic over setlists and merch drops. There’s something strangely thrilling about forming friendships with people I’ve never met, all brought together by one group’s music. It feels like tapping into something fresh — a kind of shared youth I didn’t expect to find again. Not nostalgia, but something unfolding now, in real time.

Day 12 – Love

This entry is part of a collection of reflections chronicling my journey into discovering G-Dragon during a time of depression — a period when everything felt distant and dim. Amid that darkness, his music became a quiet spark, something that slowly pulled me back to myself.

Last autumn, I heard a song by G-Dragon for the first time, and it stayed with me. Now, months later, I find myself waking up at 6 a.m. to watch G-Dragon’s performance at the Head in the Clouds event, live from LA, drawn in by the energy and passion that feels almost contagious.

There’s a special kind of love that grows in a fandom like this — steady, layered, and quietly powerful. I experience this love in many forms. There’s the joy of listening to my favourite songs while walking along the river, the comfort of those familiar melodies drifting through my headphones. There’s the thrill of watching fans at concerts, waving their daisy light sticks and singing with pure happiness. And then there’s the warmth of chatting in our group — sharing memes, fan cams, and moments of excitement that remind me I’m part of something bigger.

Each of these loves feels different but meaningful — a soundtrack for both quiet reflection and lively connection. Through music, community, and shared moments, it’s another way I’ve found joy and belonging.

Now…

These past six entries reflect how far I’ve come, not just as a fan, but as a person rebuilding joy from small moments.

If Part 1 was about finding the first sparks of joy, then this chapter is about recognizing how deeply they’ve rooted into my everyday life. Through music, community, and simple acts of connection, I’ve remembered who I am — and who I’m becoming.

If you’re on your own journey of healing or rediscovery, I hope you find moments that bring you light, too. Whether it’s a new song, a shared meme, or a midnight merch drop — let joy meet you where you are.

💬 If this post resonated with you, leave a comment or share it with someone who needs a reminder that healing is possible.

🔗 ← Read Part 1 of the 18-Day Diary
🔗 → Continue to Part 3 (coming soon)

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