Compiled by: A Sentient Bee with Anxiety and a Data Plan
Congratulations! You’ve made it to 2025, the year where climate collapse is trending, AI writes breakup texts, and Congress now live-streams on OnlyFans. As your reward, we’ve compiled this essential guide to surviving another year of democracy limping through menopause.
Whether you’re queer in Texas, straight in denial, or just here for the WiFi, this manual will teach you everything you need to navigate the emotional potholes and sociopolitical sinkholes of this blessed timeline.
Chapter 1: Accept the New National Language — Therapy-Speak
In 2025, everything is either a boundary, a trauma response, or your inner child having a tantrum in a Whole Foods parking lot.
Key phrases to memorize:
- “I’m holding space for your nervous system.”
- “My cortisol says no.”
- “You’re projecting, but I respect your journey.”
Pro Tip: If someone tries to hold you accountable, just whisper, “This feels like a rupture,” and vanish into a CBD-infused fog.
Chapter 2: Climate? Climatish.
Congratulations, the air is now spicy.
Summer lasts 11 months, followed by a one-week blizzard called “Winter.” Lakes are now theoretical. Birds have unionized. Florida is basically Atlantis but with more fentanyl.
Essentials for your Go Bag:
- SPF 5000
- Noise-canceling headphones for denial
- A reusable water bottle filled with existential dread
Chapter 3: AI Isn’t Taking Over, It’s Just Your Boss Now
Gone are the days of humans micromanaging you—now it’s CherylGPT, your AI manager who gives feedback in emoji form.
Common AI Manager Phrases:
- “Let’s circle back on your humanity later.”
- “Per my last algorithm…”
- “Reminder: Your emotional labor is not billable.”
Also, AI can now replicate your voice, rewrite your trauma, and gaslight you more efficiently than your last therapist. So that’s fun.
Chapter 4: Social Media Is a War Zone—Post Accordingly
Instagram now only shows reels of strangers sobbing into ring lights or promoting crystals infused with daddy issues. Twitter has legally changed its name to The Arena.
Posting Tips for Survival:
- Say “late-stage capitalism” at least twice a week.
- Apologize in advance for anything mildly sarcastic.
- If attacked, just say “I’m neurodivergent” and log off.
Chapter 5: Politics—Just Pretend It’s Reality TV
Congress is now a crossover episode of Jersey Shore and The Purge. Your choices in 2024 were a haunted pumpkin with felony charges and a lowercase democracy held together by vibes.
In 2025:
- SCOTUS is just 9 robes and a Magic 8 Ball.
- Texas seceded emotionally, if not legally.
- Fox News declared empathy a form of witchcraft.
Fun game: Every time a politician says “patriot,” take a shot. You’ll be dead by brunch.
Chapter 6: Dating in the Age of Ghostflation
Love in 2025 is like playing Minesweeper with genitalia and pronouns. No one knows how to flirt. Everyone’s in therapy. And all first dates begin with a consent form and Spotify Wrapped.
Warning signs:
- “I’m ethically non-monogamous” = I will raw-dog you and your roommate, and then call it growth.
- “I support you” = I voted for Buttigieg and haven’t read a book since Holes.
If someone tells you they’re emotionally available in 2025, run. They’re either lying or an android.
Chapter 7: The Economy—Don’t Look Directly at It
You’re broke, but so is everyone else. Capitalism in 2025 is a raccoon in a Gucci belt, hissing at you from inside your fridge.
Tips to stay financially afloat:
- Become a micro-influencer in a niche that doesn’t exist. (Ex: left-handed queer taxidermy.)
- Sell your kidney on Etsy.
- Pretend to be an AI ethics consultant—no one knows what it means.
Oh, and don’t forget to Venmo your landlord for “air.”
Chapter 8: Health is a Privilege, Not a Right
Insurance now comes with a Ouija board and a warning label that says, “You good?” Doctors are booked six months out unless you have an NFT of your pancreas.
New Features of American Healthcare:
- Medical debt now collectible via Spotify ads.
- Hospitals are rebranding as “Wellness Casinos.”
- Your therapist has a waitlist that extends into your next life.
Just take a Flintstone vitamin and hope the vibes heal you.
Chapter 9: Fashion Trends to Watch
- Depression core: Hoodies with emotional support holes.
- Revenge wear: Power blazers worn during passive-aggressive emails.
- Climate couture: Rain boots with built-in foot trauma.
Whatever you wear, remember: confidence is key, and pants are optional in Zoom meetings unless you stand up.
Chapter 10: Spirituality, But Make It Profitable
Meditation apps now include microtransactions for every deep breath. Your third eye requires a subscription. God has a Patreon.
Religious Trends:
- Manifestation is out. Dissociation is in.
- Crystals now come with side effects.
- Tarot cards are being regulated by the SEC.
Find peace wherever you can. Even if it’s just in a quiet Target aisle next to a pride display and a screaming child.
Appendix: Phrases to Memorize for Daily Use
- “It’s giving dystopia.”
- “I’m not ghosting, I’m buffering.”
- “I’m doing shadow work, don’t talk to me.”
- “This is my emotional support Diet Dr. Pepper.”
Conclusion: You’re Doing Great (In the Most Chaotic Timeline Ever)
If you’re still here, still breathing, still side-eyeing the world with a mix of rage and reluctant hope—you’re not just surviving 2025. You’re a goddamn miracle with WiFi.
So slap on some sunscreen, charge your emotional support device, and scream into the void with style.
You’ve earned it.