Reflections 2025: How the Heck Did We Get Here?

I felt the need to write something to close out 2025, a way to bring back a sense of balance after a year filled with so much uncertainty.
A year where the threat of war hovered over us, where big egos tried to force their will not just on people, but on entire countries.
Ego's that blatantly ignore decency, perhaps they don’t even know the true meaning of the word, or worse, they simply don’t give a shit.
And we all watch it happen, in amazement, thinking: How the heck did we get here?

Suddenly, this wasn’t just about artists. It was about us.
Watching the people we grew up with age, struggle, and disappear brings reality uncomfortably close. It reminds us that time hasn’t been standing still, it’s been moving efficiently while we weren’t paying attention.
Raul Malo sharing his illness so openly stayed with me deeply.

But it did made me realize something important:
we are a unique generation. Not better, but very different.
We didn’t just watch movies and shows; we grew up with the people in them.
Their voices, their characters, their music became markers of time in our lives.
They didn’t feel distant or untouchable, they felt familiar, safe, permanent.

Val Kilmer will always be Doc Holliday in Tombstone to me, leaning back, smirking, saying, “I’m your huckleberry.” That’s the version that lives in my mind. Not the older man. Not the illness. Not the fragility. That moment. That age. That energy.

As we reach the edge of another year, many of us look back at the one we’re leaving behind. But this isn’t about the world leaders or global events. Each of us has experienced our own highs and lows, and those personal experiences cannot be generalized. Some felt the pain of losing a close family member; others grieved a pet who brought them comfort. These losses cannot be compared, yet each carries a profound weight. An elderly person losing a pet that had helped ease loneliness may feel just as deep a sense of sadness as someone who lost a loved one.

So ... what I am trying to say is that this blog isn’t meant to speak generally.
Because we all have our own experiences that shaped 2025,
but what I want to do is share a few things about 2025 that absolutely blew me away.

And one of those moments was the Elon Musk chainsaw event. Watching him jump around on a stage with a chainsaw left me in absolute disbelief. I literally could not believe that this was actually happening!
This was the richest person in the world. One of the people responsible for mass layoffs, around 260,000 federal workers fired or taking buyouts, and the dismantling or defunding of programs related to foreign aid, social services, and environmental protection. These actions were criticized for their lack of transparency, questionable legal basis, and disputed financial impact. Hundreds of thousands of people were affected, including federal employees and individuals who relied on those programs. Cuts to foreign aid alone were estimated to have led to over 661,000 deaths, mostly children, by December 2025. And sorry ... I have to say it again ... The richest man in the world was jumping up and down like a wannabee member of 'Jackyl' (and for those who do not understand that ... Google it) celebrating the fact that he was about to devastate Hundreds of thousands of people.

To me ... all of this became the epitome of a total abandonment of empathy.
In 2025, social disregard has shifted from a flaw to a feature, proudly paraded in the open.

But let's move on ... on a personal level, I experienced devastating loss and some serious health scares within my family.
I keep these matters private, some things are too intimate and painful to share publicly.

But there was another death that truly shocked me:
Raul Malo, the lead singer of The Mavericks.
I’ve loved The Mavericks since the early ’90s, and seeing someone whose music has been part of your life face such personal struggles changes the way you see things.
Especially when you realize that his wife of over thirty years is there, right beside him and we had just celebrated our 40th anniversary.

Years ago, news like this would have arrived abruptly: “Oh… did you hear? Val Kilmer died.”
Silence. Shock. Disbelief.
Because those people didn’t die. Now, we know the whole story.
We know about diagnoses, treatments, relapses, hopeful updates, bad days. We know because the internet tells us, constantly. Sometimes gently, often clumsily, but rarely with restraint.

We are the first generation to experience this.
No generation before us had to deal with illness, aging, and loss publicly, filtered through screens, headlines, posts, and algorithms. Just constant updates, opinions, speculation, and an odd pressure to react.

The internet didn’t create suffering, but it learned how to monetize it.
Illness became clickbait.
Fear became engagement.
Grief became content.
Behind every dramatic headline was a real person, a real family, with real pain, and online,
but here's the truth ...nuance doesn’t perform well online.

At some point this year, many of us quietly stepped back ... I know I did!
Not because we stopped caring, but because caring that way in that environment felt wrong. Disrespectful.
Because compassion is not measured by a heart or a thumbs-up.

But enough of that ... I want to end this year with a smile!
2025 wasn’t gentle, but I’ve learned not to react to everything.
You can do whatever you want, but remember that you do have a choice.
I choose not to read posts or articles that don’t add value to my life. I stopped watching the news every day.
Those are my choices and I am happy with that!

We most definitely are a unique generation. We’ve had to figure out things no one prepared us for, because no one had experienced them yet and somehow, we’re still standing, still laughing, still loving, still hoping.
That feels like something to be proud of.

So here’s to 2026:
To lighter hearts,
Sharper boundaries,
Deeper connections,
Less bullshit,
and more moments that make us smile for no reason at all.

Happy New Year!

Rosita

Ozzy Osbourne, once the untouchable Prince of Darkness, openly showing the physical cost of time.
These were the people we subconsciously believed would never grow old.
And suddenly, they were.
Ozzy Osbourne wasn’t supposed to slow down. EVER!.