A year of losses – 2025 in a nutshell – Peter X. Eriksson

January 1, 2026

You know that a year will suck when it begins with David Lynch dying and Trump taking office again. And it has sucked. So much. Both on a personal plane and for the world in general.

This will be a long and sad year recap. If you want to do something more fun with your time, like rub lemon juice into a papercut or pick a fight with murder hornets, please go ahead. If not, buckle up this is going to be a dark ride…

Anita Eriksson 1938 – 2025

In a year of losses, the first loss was my mom. I really didn’t expect that. Yes, she was almost 87, but besides dementia and old age tiredness, there was nothing physically wrong with her. In my own mind, I expected her to go through her later years the same way my great-grandmother Edla did. Edla became fragile from old age and dementia in her late 80s but still managed to live until 99. But it didn’t happen that way with Mom.

When I moved from Sweden in 2023, my mom still lived at home with help from the home service, and things were mostly fine. But at the end of last year, they told me that she was becoming more confused and that it would be better if she moved to a care home. In January, she moved into a nice place with good care. My plans were to go to Sweden in the spring to visit her and empty her old apartment. I booked that trip for the second week in April. But as it turned out, I would be one week too late.

In the final days of March, they called me from the care home and said that my mom had stopped eating and drinking, perhaps because she had an infection in her mouth or something like that. I didn’t worry that much about it because I knew she was in good hands there. But then a day later, they called again and said that she had become unresponsive and that her body was shutting down. She was quietly asleep for two days, then on the morning of April first (of all days), she drew her last breath. Peacefully in her sleep.

Weirdly enough, my first reaction was surprise. This weird feeling of “Wait, what? What did you say just happened?” I knew it was true, but at the same time not in my own universe. Like there were two worlds with different things happening in them. But I felt the loss in my heart.

That day moved in slow motion. I wasn’t sure what to do, but at the end of the day, I went down to the ocean, picked a small bouquet of flowers, and dropped them into the waves, hoping that the currents would carry the flowers across the world, all the way to Sweden, as a last goodbye.

That was all the time I had for mourning at that moment. The trip to Sweden was already booked, but now it became something very different. I had to start planning for the funeral, doing the estate inventory, cancel all her subscriptions and services, tell family and friends, and a million other things. An exhausting process that normally takes a couple of months. Now I had to squeeze it all into a single week.

The trip to Sweden was… strange. Like an intense fever dream. Almost two days in the air (Valparaiso-Santiago-Madrid-Stockholm-Luleå), then hit the ground running. It all happened so fast and so intensely that I barely remember it. Now, when I try to look back at it, this is what I recall:

April in northern Sweden – all the seasons fighting for the attention, with sunshine, rain, and snowstorms taking turns like acrobats jumping over each other. Most of the snow had thawed, but the river was still frozen.

Felt weird to speak Swedish again. Had to stop and think before saying anything.

Mom didn’t believe in throwing things away. The only blessing was that she lived in an apartment with limited space and not in a big house. Still, it took forever to go through and pack everything. I mean, why the hell does one single person need more than 20 plates, and just as many bed sets? We found enough table cloths to cover every single table in the entire western hemisphere!

Cleaning out her home was physically and emotionally exhausting. It’s a heartbreaking process to pack away a person’s entire life. To erase all the physical memories in order to create space for a new tenant’s life. But I guess that’s what we all become in the end – nothing, except the memories we left in the people we touched…

Rented a big truck and drove everything to a reuse/recycling central. Only kept a handful of items, like photos and small trinkets. Moving everything was a nightmare. It was just me and Natalia carrying everything. We got and exhausted quickly, and when the energy runs out, I get careless. I got cuts and bruises EVERYWHERE. Even on my belly and my fingernails. But we did it. It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears, but somehow, we managed, just the two of us.

I arranged the funeral, but we had to go back before the ceremony. Fortunately, I knew exactly which coffin, flowers etc. my mom liked since we did my uncle’s funeral together. And fortunately pt. 2, she had left the church, which meant no meandering priest and no tedious hymns. Instead, she got a very lovely personal eulogy and her favourite songs. I was told it was beautiful. Now she rests in the same memorial meadow as her brothers, and not far from her parents.

The guys at Pizza Pepperoni were happy to see me again, and so was I. They have absolutely delicious pizzas, and they are lovely people. Definitely the thing I miss the most.

Even if we were super-busy 24/7 the whole time, we still squeezed in some moments so Natalia could explore Swedish food. We tried reindeer burgers, moose meat, tunnbrödrulle (a kind of hot dog wrap with shrimp salad), reindeer pizza, and lots of other stuff. Natalia fell in love with knäckebröd (crisp bread), caviar, salty liquorice, and cheese in tubes. Obviously, we brought as much as we could carry back home.

Did some small sightseeing when we had time. Not much to see in Luleå, but visited the harbours, the house where I grew up, and of course the communal bathhouse where they shot the pool scene from Let the Right One In.

The last night before the flight home, we stayed at the Luleå Stadshotell. It felt weird to stay at a hotel in the city I once lived in, but it was much nicer than I thought. And the breakfast was excellent, with cured salmon, pickled herring, local berries, and great pastries.

Besides a few memories (old photos, oil lamps, and a trinket or two), I brought back some of my old clothes, omeprazole (it’s a prescription drug in Chile), and my fav hair styling products that aren’t available outside Europe.

Saying goodbye isn’t always a one-time event. When dementia is involved, it’s a process in several steps. Like Spiritbox sang about dementia in their heartbreaking song Constance: “Pressure in increments, like a slow-moving coup”.

This is how it was with my mom. I saw her becoming more and more forgetful, if still mostly herself. Forgetting names, leaving her dentures in the fridge, things like that. Then one day, she pointed to the picture of me with my phone number that she always kept on the wall by her phone, and she asked me: “Do you know who this is?” Laughing, thinking it was a joke, I said, yeah, sure, I know him pretty well. Then she told me that it was her son, and could I please dial his number so she could talk to him. That was the first, and hardest, goodbye to my mom. The son that stood right in front of her was gone, if still around as a sentiment in some way.

Then she started to change in more drastic ways. Sleeping during the days, arguing with invisible people during the night, like the kids she thought were jumping in her bed. She became more and more confused, and when I left in 2023, our goodbye was not a mom saying goodbye to her son. I don’t know who she thought I was, just some guy passing by, I guess. I did think that I would see her again, even if it would be as strangers, but I missed her by a week. Life is like that sometimes, I guess. But I said goodbye to my mom years ago. Now I can grieve her…

Anita Sylvia Eriksson 1938 – 2025

Thank you for giving me wings to fly

Rest now…

Velvet Noir 2013 – 2025

We lost Velvet.

I still can’t believe it. She should’ve had a bunch of golden years left still. But…

We noticed already last year that her breathing had become more laboured. Worried, we took her to the vet, and she got meds for asthma and allergies. She really hated to get a poof from the inhaler, but she was ok otherwise. A bit slower, and less playful, but really sweet and full of her regular bossy attitude. If anything, she became more affectionate and cuddly during the year, becoming a regular in bed with us, enjoying her golden years with treats and cuddles.

Then one day late in August, her breathing got even more difficult. We took her to the vet where she was diagnosed with pneumonia and put on 24/7 intensive care with oxygen and antibiotics. But they also noticed that she had lost weight, and had an enlargement on her heart. I was worried about all this, but also so sure that the treatment would get her back on her feet and back home again. But after three days in intensive care, her little heart gave up…

Velvet started her life hard. She was thrown away in a plastic bag after she was born, but was fortunately found and soon ended up in Natalia’s loving care. We weren’t sure how she would react to moving in with us to an apartment since she had spent so much time outside earlier, but after hiding for a day or two, she decided that she liked it. I think she loved being the only child and getting all the attention. I was told that she wasn’t the most affectionate cat and that she wasn’t a lap cat, but after a couple of days, she got into my lap and decided that she liked that as well. So much that I felt guilty every time I had to use the laptop, and she gave me a disappointed look before she crawled under my legs and settled for sleeping next to my butt. And we took a lot of naps together, sleeping side by side.

She also became a herding cat, meowing at us when she decided it was time to eat or go to bed. Waiting patiently in either the kitchen or the bedroom for us to come to where she wanted us to be. You could set the clock after her demands, because she had a clear och precise schedule of when it was time for us to eat or sleep. Like the furriest little boss we’ve ever had.

If I would try to describe the Nugget, I would say that she was a Lady. An anxious lady that didn’t like strangers, unexpected changes, or being lifted, but definitely a Lady. Her coat was black and shiny like velvet (hence the name), with one bright white whisker, and a very boopable nose. She was so well-behaved, never scratched, begged or caused any trouble. Like a true Lady. We always said that if she would have been a human, she would have been a noble Italian countess in a black dress and with a pearl necklace, sipping Champagne, and tut-tutting at everything she considered loud or vulgar. The times when we took her to the vet, she always behaved so well, even if she hated it, but as soon as we got back home, she gave us a loud and insulted meow that no doubt meant “How dare you!” So just like a Lady, she kept her face in public and saved the scolding for behind closed doors. Velvet was as classy as she was elegant and beautiful.

And she got softer with us. More sweet and cuddly. Flipped on her back with her belly in the air and paws begging for pets. Squirmed happily on the balcony when the sun was bright and warm. Looked at us with big loving eyes when we watched movies in bed. Slept by our feet at night. I miss her so much.

After she passed, we put her on a resting place in the middle of the living room, surrounded by beautiful flowers, and held a wake for her. I have never cried so much. The next day we buried her in a large flowerpot, planted a flower on top, and put the pot on her favourite sunny spot on the balcony where she always was so happy. Now she is still with us there, and we can take the pot with us so she will always stay with us when we move.

Losing the Nugget broke us completely, and we still haven’t healed from this loss. She was a family member, a best friend, an anchor, a shiny black purring bunch of joy, and an antidepressant. Her presence kept us whole and calm. After all these months without her, I still see a Velvet-shaped hole everywhere I look. For being this little black void, her presence was enormous.

I want to write so much more about her, but I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near.

Velvet, you were the bestest cat, I will always love you with all my heart, and I miss you so, so much!

Velvet “The Nugget” Noir 2013 – 2025

Rest In Love

Microplastics for the soul – the year AI poisoned everything

As any sentient carbon lifeform probably have noticed, AI is here, and it’s tangoing around all over the place in chainsaw boots. I have a bunch of feelings about this. I’m usually excited about new technology, but we must remember that tech is just a tool, and it is what this tool is used for that matters. A hammer is a hammer, and can be used for building hospitals or cracking skulls. Same with AI. I can see potential for this technology in medicine, science, getting better data to fight climate change, preventing and minimizing risks, and stuff like that. But of course that’s not what it is being used for. As far as I can tell, it’s only used for creating AI slop, misinformation, deepfake porn; as well as killing creativity, sucking the human experience and skill out of art, destroying the environment, stealing jobs, and rotting our brains.

This subject is a discussion all in itself, so I wrote a separate post about it: AI or the highway? – Why effort and soul are so important in the AI slop era. My conclusion: In the long history of fucked up things that humanity have unleashed on itself in the name of greed, this is peak fuckery. This is a technology that in its current state is fever dream of a hype that could be profitable for a handful of rich people, but is a disaster for everyone else. AI is the microplastics of the soul.

Maybe it’s just another sign of the times of enshittification we’re living in, when absolutely everything is getting worse and worse. I highly recommend reading Cory Doctorow’s brilliant book Enshittification, where he explains why we are “living through the Enshittocene, the Great Enshittening, a time in which the services that matter to us, that we rely on, are turning into giant piles of shit.” It truly feels like turning goods and services into bads and disservices is the new business idea.

Another downside of generative AI is that businesses prefer to use crappy AI slop in form of horrible multi-fingered, piss-coloured illustrations and soulless, error-filled writing instead of paying professionals to do great, correct, and authentic work. And as a writer, I’ve become a victim of this. Since most clients prefer to use bad but free writing to paying someone like me for some really good writing, I have lost about 75% of my market this year. It happened quickly and without warning, and it has really fucked things up for us.

While I’m still earning enough to keep us off the streets and the hunger at bay, a lot of plans have stalled, life has shrunk, and it’s suddenly impossible to navigate the future. I honestly have no idea what to expect from each day. I’ve heard the mantra “Start using AI or get left behind” a gazillion times, but for what? I mean, I don’t start despising anything before I’ve had a chance to get to know it better, and of course I was curious to see what it could do for me as a writer. Research? Nope. It gave me too many unreliable results with a lot of data that couldn’t be verified. Besides, research is a journey, it’s about also finding all the information you didn’t actually look for that can give you new ideas and perspective. Getting your answers served on a sliver plate isn’t a good idea even when they are correct. Use a LLM for writing? Get the fuck outta here! I love writing! I WANT to do it. Letting a bot do the writing for me makes as much sense as letting a bot eat my cheese or have sex with my wife. I don’t want to be productive when it comes to things I enjoy – I want to enjoy these things as much as I can, slowly and deeply. Editing? Yeah, kind of. It is a pretty decent spell- and grammar checker. Especially when I write in English. But that’s it. I can definitely live without AI as a writer. And if we’re counting all the environmental, societal, and cognitive downsides, it feels like using a pen that kills 15 kittens every time you pick it up.

Which brings us to another question. “Or get left behind”? Says who? Should I abandon all my sense of what is right and decent and join the movement of making everything worse and destroying what makes us human because “someone” says so? Fuck no! Doctorow sums this up pretty well in his book: “’There is no alternative’ really means ‘Stop trying to think of an alternative.’ It’s a demand dressed up as an observation of truth. Its job is to extinguish your imagination and foreclose on the possibility of your even conceiving of another way …”

So what can I do now? When it comes to work, my best, as I always do, and hope that there are enough clients that prefer to pay for quality, humanity, unique insights, and professionalism. But this is also an opportunity for me to ponder what kind of writer I am and want to be. I didn’t start writing to get into marketing. That was a pure “fill the financial holes” thing I started doing out of necessity, and it somehow became my main thing while I was distracted by other stuff. My area has always been art and entertainment. Telling stories, making fun of things, twisting and turning the world in new weird and amusing ways. I’ve just accidentally slipped out of it for a couple of years. Perhaps this is the sign that I should return to what I know best and love most?

What I do know is that I’m tired of complaining. I want to be for things. I want to be creative, have new ideas, touch other people’s emotions, and do what I can to create a better world. Add kindness, understanding, creativity, fun, excitement, and humanity to it. I don’t want to boost my productivity. In this case, less IS more. There’s already too much of everything we don’t need, and we’re all hurrying towards nothing. I want to do more meaningful things. And take the time doing them well.

And that’s my plan for the future. I no longer care about in which stupid direction the rest of the world is stampeding blindly, or what’s expected of me. I can only move in a direction that feels right.

Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing. – Fyodor Dostoevsky

We all died from Covid and this is hell – other assorted crap

Life isn’t just one damn thing after another – the damn things overlap. Hell, they get together party and have an orgy, and leave me to do the clean up. After the trip to Sweden and burying my mom, I didn’t even have time to catch my breath and mourn because I had to work my ass off to catch up with all the things I’d fallen behind with (plus being sick – you don’t spend that much time on planes without picking up som bugs). Then we lost Velvet and fell apart, but just a few days after that, Natalia had to have surgery (cholecystectomy) and recover from that. Then there was dealing with the work and financial problems. There haven’t been a single moment to stop and process, feel, or rest during this year. And not very surprisingly, that manifested itself in a depression towards the end of the year. But I haven’t had a chance to deal with that either, because problems doesn’t wait for me to catch my breath. Story of my life…

And as if losing two family members and getting gut-punched in the career wasn’t enough to drag me down into darkness, 2025 certainly has offered a lot of other sad, horrible and generally bad things happening in the world. I admire anyone that had the guts to check the news sober this year.

Here is just an assortment of things that made everyone long for an alien invasion or an apocalyptic asteroid hit this year…

We didn’t just lose David Lynch in 2025. We also lost Ozzy, Brent Hinds, Ace Frehly, Drew Struzan, Jane Goodall, and Rob Reiner. Legends, all of them.

Genocide in Gaza. Or more correctly, the killing of Palestinians accelerated, since this has been going on for more than 70 years. And the world did nothing. Except arrest those who protested against it. When I write this there’s a “ceasefire” but as The Onion so accurately described it: “Israel Agrees To Go Back To Killing Palestinians On Less Frequent Basis”.

We have now breached 7 of 9 planetary boundaries. Climate Change, Biosphere Integrity, Land System Change, Freshwater Use, Biogeochemical Flows, Novel Entities, and Ocean Acidification are now in danger, and it’s increasing the risk of destabilising the entire planet. Our only home. And the world does nothing. Except arrest those who try to do something. It feels like being on a plane spinning out of control where the pilots are yelling at the passengers for being scared instead of trying to right the plane…

6-7 was the word of the year, Klan Robe White the colour of the year, and Architects of AI person of the year. Let’s just say that dystopia has been the theme of the year…

As I mentioned before, goods and services have turned into bads and disservices. Enshittification is ruining everything, and making it more expensive. Soon we’ll be charged a subscription fee for going on a walk or having a good night’s sleep, or having to do it while watching ads. I think we need a complete rehaul of capitalism to solve the entire enshittification. Right now, we are following a model that is actively ruining both the planet and us humans, without giving any value back. Except financial value for a very few.

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Every country is electing far right fascist leaders. Including my new country Chile in this year’s presidential election. They’re selling it like immigrants was the major problem, but using that as an excuse to give human rights, decency, women’s rights, science, and the environment a Hulk-sized blow in the groin. We don’t have an immigration crisis – we have an empathy crisis manifesting itself in fascism and hate. Our number one priority should be the caring for the environment and ourselves, because that’s the real problem that is ruining everything. Have the chaos of the world really ruined our critical thinking this much?! Well, let’s party like it’s 1920s again, right…

I don’t want to talk about Trump and what a horrible mess the final season of USA is. Everyone with a heart and a brain already knows what a ginormous shitstain on the universe he and his cohorts are. Pouring concrete on rose gardens is a good metaphor for this timeline. There’s also this brilliant Chilean saying about voting against your own good, roughly translated it goes something like: They told you that they were going to piss on you, and you opened your mouth…

Besides the rise of fascism, there’s also a steep rise in racism, misogyny, anti-intellectualism, extremism, and other bullshit. I believe that us humans have the intelligence and the empathy to create a just, sustainable, and beautiful world; but instead we somehow now have flat-earthers, antivaxxers, MAGA, evangelicals, climate change deniers and other nut-jobs that are dragging progress back into a moldy cave. I wish that I could be lazy and blame it on “stupid people”, but it’s rarely about that. Intelligence can be hi-jacked by a lot of confused feelings. The rancid stew of denying the facts about something that is very obvious has many ingredients – stress & confusion, distrust, The Dunning-Kruger effect, narcissism, sense of entitlement, confirmation bias, the need to make sense of a chaotic world etc. I sort of understand the urge to create a comforting fantasy when things are as scary and chaotic as they are now, but it will only make things worse. Now we’re stampeding over the cliff’s edge, blinded to reality by fear and confusion. It breaks my heart every day.

I’ve gained weight. Again. When life gets heavy, I get heavy too…

No concerts this year. They were either cancelled, happened when we were out of the country, or when we were broke. (Fun fact about writing the last sentence: my spell-check asked if I really meant “broken”).

There’s this theory that we all died during the pandemic and that this is hell. As an atheist, I know that this isn’t true. Something this bad can only be cooked up by humans. I think that I was born disappointed in this world (I blame growing up watching Star Trek, thinking that we really were headed for a “The acquisition of wealth is no longer the driving force in our lives. We work to better ourselves and the rest of humanity” future. What can I say, I was just a kid.) Or at least I’m having, instead of an angel and a devil on my shoulders, a hopefull idealist and a tired cynic fighting for my attention. They are usually at a stalemate, putting me in a very weird state of mind where I’m both deeply depressed about things but simultaneously eager to fight to make them better, like some exhausted Schrödinger’s mood swinger.

Of course, this year has been some very strong coffee for the cynic part, so my disappointment with the state of the world is as we speak as deep as the basement of the Mariana Trench. A big part of me just want to hide away somewhere nice, read good books, eat cheese and drink wine with my loved ones, ignoring the rest of the world as much as possible. But who am I fooling? I’ve never been good at giving up. There’s always another fuck to give under the one that I thought was my last. So, I guess that I will keep trying to identify as rebel scum and scramble up some effort to be the change I want to see in the world (or was it the poison I want so see in the well?). They may pour concrete on the rose gardens, but roses have the strength to grow from concrete…

Wait, there’s good stuff too!

My godson Fride came to visit in February. Since his dad (one of my oldest and best friends) was stupid enough to entrust me with this role that carry no obligations at all, I have not been a very present backup-father figure. I blame it on the complete shit-show my life’s been the last decade. But this year Fride, now in his early 20s (how did that happen?!), went on a South American tour together with some friends, visiting almost every country in this part of the world. Absolutely admirable! They spent a couple of days here in Valparaiso, and of course we had some fun together. Sightseeing, dinner with a lot of local delicacies, and debauchery at the local Absinthe bar. Fun times! It was really good to see him again (last time that happened, I think that he was showing me his dinosaur toys). He has grown into a kind, intelligent and harmonious young man. Probably because I wasn’t involved in any way. But I promised to come and visit next time I’m in Sweden.

Got a new tattoo! On my right arm. It’s a companion to the Doctor Who quote on my left arm – “We are all stories in the end, just make it a good one”. This one says the same thing, but in Gallifreyan, plus a bunch of other Whovian design elements as well. Once again provided by the excellent Yessenia. Thank you for a great job Yess!

Visited La Granja – a petting farm where we met goats, horses, donkeys, ducks, peacocks, turtles, rabbits, and hens looking like they were twice divorced. Can’t go wrong with animals!

Finally caught up with the Van Gogh Immersive Art Experience. Missed it when it was in Sweden, but now we got to fully immerse ourselves in his life and genius art. There was no cut-your-ear-off experience, but I got to sit in the chair at the cafe terrace on the Place du Forum (sort of…).

As everyone may have noticed, social media platforms suck like a nymphomaniac black hole these days. The good news is that there are some good alternatives out there. One of them is Foto – a very promising alternative to Instagram. The people behind it are trying to bring the focus back to pure photography. No algorithm, no ads, no reels, no influencers – just pictures. Of course I’m there, and that gave me a chance to be starstruck when Tosin Abasi himself started following me and liking my pictures. Yes, he’s not only one of the world’s best guitarists – he’s also a great photographer.

It’s been a good year for gothic horror with brilliant adaptations of Nosferatu and Frankenstein. Thank you, universe! Please keep it up!

As a person struggling anxiety and depression, I’m always keeping a couple of eyes out for science-backed mood hacks. I noticed that one thing showed up in almost all research about mental wellbeing – gratitude. Being grateful is not about toxic positivity, denial, or looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses, it’s about shifting your gaze from the bad and stressful to acknowledge the everyday things that you are grateful for, like relationships, nature, and good food. Regular practise counteracts the brain’s negativity bias and is proven to improve mental and emotional health.

I started practicing gratitude daily, and it has actually helped. Yeah, it has been one of the worst years of my life, but in all that darkness, gratitude has reminded me of all the good things I have in my life. One was when we went to Sweden and I got reminded of the constant snow and cold. Here in Valpo, it’s never worse than a European autumn. There’s no season that cause me discomfort, and I can wear clothes that are cool, not that are designed to protect me from the elements. The other thing that made me realize how lucky I am, was to go through all these sorrows with the love and support from the most wonderful partner in the universe. It’s easy to have a good marriage when the sun shines and life is peachy keen, but you don’t know how strong the love is until you suffer together (or try to assemble IKEA furniture together). And this year has truly shown me how fortunate I am to have Natalia by my side. I wouldn’t have made it through without her.

I have gradually drifted towards a simpler lifestyle during the year. In the sense that I’m more focused on being content with what I have and finding joy in the non-material. Not that I’ve ever been one for competition, chasing wealth, or pursuing a materialistic lifestyle. Sure, I’ve worked hard and wayyyy too much in my life, but that’s because I’m a compulsive problem-solver and have to fix every problem in the world myself. But I haven’t a single penny or any material possessions to show for it. Just a burnt-out body and soul. So excuse me if I’m not all that into the work-hard-and-buy-stuff lifestyle.

Lately, I’ve just felt extremely fed up with this late-stage capitalistic hellscape where everything is monetized, pointless, bad, AND expensive. I can no longer find joy in buying stuff or using digital services. I also don’t want to give my money to big corporations ruining both people and the planet for profit. Withholding my money and voting with my wallet is also a rebellion. What I really want is to take it easy and enjoy the simple things – good books, picnics in the graveyard with Natalia, pet the neighbourhood cats, take naps, look at the sea, listen to music, have a glass of wine and watch something exciting. And we do. We barely shop anymore, and what we buy we get from local businesses around the corner. It’s our quiet rebellion against the enshittification. And it feels really good.

And of course my camera has been very busy this year. Almost 10 000 pictures in my 2025 folder. Here are some of my favs:

The year in culture and fun

Read 46 books in 2025. These were my favs:

This year’s best movies:

Great stuff on the small screen:

Amazing new music from:

In the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow

Still here? Then you deserve a drink.

Honestly, this wasn’t as much a year recap for me as it has been a much needed therapy session. What usually takes me like 2 days to scribble down now took me weeks to write, and lots and lots of tears. Now I’m very exhausted, and I just want to leave 2025 far, far, far, far behind me.

I know that things don’t suddenly and magically change when the clock strikes midnight on December 31, but what I want now is to exhale deeply, begin to heal, and lay the groundwork for a peaceful, meaningful, and hopefully fun 2026. I want to transcend the grief and embrace life with a smile again. Banish the darkness with a life well lived. Fight all the horrible things in the world by filling it with art, kindness and laughter. Have adventures. Write better stories. Live a good life and make good art.

I don’t have any resolutions for 2026, but I have a bunch of mottos I’m going to follow:

I reject your reality and substitute my own!

Fuck you, make me!

I will replace AI

Touch (gr)ass

Rebel scum and proud!

My peace is non-negotiable

Needs more cheese

Feel free to borrow any of them. And have a lovely 2026!

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