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I am an incurable deadline fighter. While everyone else reviews their year and winds down by Christmas, the Winter Solstice, or even Thanksgiving, I insist on procrastinating until the very end of the year—this exact moment, when Australia has already entered next year. I had no choice; work progress was poor this year, so it’s time for a final sprint. Whatever gets done, gets done.
So, how bad were this year’s results? I just dug out the “Top Ten Goals for 2025” I set at the beginning of the year. Counting on my fingers, I only completed four. “That’s still 40%,” you might say. Thanks for the comfort, but the “Top Ten” goals I set were actually zero-indexed, meaning there were eleven in total. I missed seven, making my success rate only 36%.
Here is the point-by-point review. A round of applause for the hits; a search for excuses for the misses.
Success: Published from #185 to the current issue #236, totaling 52 newsletters.
At the start of the year, I said my confidence index was 100%. Looking back, I was too optimistic. On several Wednesdays, I truly thought I was going to miss the deadline, but I always managed to pull it off at the last moment. When setting the same goal for 2026, I can’t say I’m 100% confident anymore—at most, I can say I’ll give 100% effort.
Failure: 89 Threads, 25 Tweets, 22 Facebook posts, 0 Instagram.
At the beginning of the year, I told myself to be more social. I just did the math: on Threads, my most “active” platform, I posted 89 times (including replies). That’s one post every four days. Real users probably post more than that in a week; in fact, they probably don’t even bother counting. As for Twitter (don’t remind me to call it X; I… X it!), it’s been modified beyond recognition. I only tweet occasionally, averaging once every two weeks.
I stopped looking at Facebook long ago and don’t expect others to look either, but I still thought I’d post there after finishing the newsletter each week. Despite that, I only managed 22 posts all year—mostly newsletters. That means I only remembered to post to FB for every three newsletters I wrote. But what does it matter? The reach for most posts is near zero, not to mention that seeing a post doesn’t mean people will click to read.
As for Instagram, which has become a primary information source for the masses, I continue to leave the page blank. I haven’t posted there in nearly five years.
Success: Sold 120 copies of the “True Fans Edition” and 499 copies of the “Public Edition”; gave away 23 Public copies; 642 copies in total.
I reached this goal easily only because I set it cunningly—the book was almost finished in early January. It would have been a miracle if I hadn’t reached it. Even with the Public Edition priced at 0.99 USD, I sold fewer than 500 copies, which leaves much to be desired. But since I didn’t set a specific sales target at the start of the year, I can shamelessly call it a success.
Success: 5 speeches, 5 guest appearances, and several other sharing sessions.
Early in the year, I held book launches at Have-A-Nice-Stay and Book Punch. The response was quite good; I remember the session at Have-A-Nice-Stay lasted until 2:00 AM—it nearly killed me.
Additionally, I shared topics related to decentralized publishing on three other occasions: the Taipei International Book Exhibition, Hualien “Island of Light,” and Tainan “Bubu Space.”
In the second half of the year, DHK dao organized five “Drifting Classrooms.” I tagged along as a guest for Phoebe, who was the lead speaker, visiting five venues—Have-A-Nice-Stay, Book Punch, Hunter Bookstore, Liber Research Community, and Kongcept—to share misconceptions about money.
Failure: Delayed until the end of the year with only slight progress.
At the start of the year, I said this was my “Main Quest.” Looking at it that way, I might have wasted 2025 entirely.
With a thick skin, I launched the “Book Voucher” for Attack on Freedom in December using the new IBO (Initial Book Offering) model. Thanks to everyone’s support, we’ve sold 80 copies so far (reaching 80% of the initial goal).
Regarding the text itself, I actually started writing at the end of last year. I dragged it out so long that when I revisited the manuscript recently, my thoughts had changed. Instead of patching it up, I decided to scrap it and start over. As of this morning, I’ve only rewritten a few thousand words. I’m almost embarrassed to say it. Regardless, I have finally re-entered the text before the new year arrives.
Total Failure: I completely forgot this goal existed.
If I hadn’t been writing this report card, I wouldn’t have even remembered setting this goal. This is excessive. However, even though most people rely on social media now, the importance of a blog has never wavered in my heart. Although I can’t spare the time or resources to revamp it right now, I will ensure that ckxpress.com continues to operate smoothly.
A failure, yet a success.
The failure: I didn’t find the time to organize my own million-plus words to train a Small Language Model (SLM) that writes in my style.
The success: I didn’t waste much time chasing every new AI model that came out. Things change so fast; there’s no rush. I’d rather slow down and wait for open-source models to become more mature and stable before I dive in. (Inner voice: Is this just a loser’s excuse?)
Success: Progress is looking good.
The NFT upgrade happened earlier than planned. The token upgrade was delayed by three months but was fully launched in early November. Overall, the operation has been very smooth.
Readers and authors without a technical background can now use embedded wallets seamlessly via email. Fees are negligible, and various dApps are integrating. The blockchain technology is finally moving into the background as applications enter the mainstream—the vision I’ve been waiting for years to see is finally emerging.
The v3 upgrade period lasts until February 2, 2026. Staked LikeCoin must be unbonded first (which takes 21 days). Users holding v2 LikeCoin (addresses starting with like1) should handle this by early January at the latest to avoid missing out.
Defeat: Missed it by a single day.
Even though I’m a deadline fighter, December 31st (a workday) just didn’t seem like the right time to open a shop. I admit defeat.
JustBooks is officially set to open tomorrow (!) on January 1, 2026. Tomorrow—or I should say today—anyway, it’s Thursday, January 1st. From 12:00 to 20:00, I will be at JustBooks for a party with no program, no ceremony, and no meat. If you have nothing else to do on New Year’s Day, feel free to drop by for a chat. But please, please do not bring gifts; buying an e-book is the best support you can give.
Just Books
Shop 8, B1/F, King’s Centre, 193 King’s Road (opposite Sum Kee Books)
Hours: @justbooks.852
Failure: Let it be, don’t force it.
Someone was supposed to take over at the beginning of the year, but he eventually left Hong Kong (bless him), so the plan fell through.
However, there was an unexpected bit of progress: The 221 Hong Kong books from UBR 2024 moved from my mini-storage unit to the shelves of JustBooks, available for any visitor to read.
Failure: but “less is more”?
At the end of last year, there were 168 Daoyau Pro members. One year later, there are only 143.
Wait, let me explain. Primarily, in the middle of the year, I proactively canceled all subscriptions and issued refunds, then invited everyone to re-subscribe on Substack. From a revenue perspective, active mass-unsubscribing is “courting death”—and I deserve it.
However, if the goal is maximizing engagement rather than revenue, the Daoyau Pros who returned are significantly more active. 105 of them (73.4%) joined the Signal group, and 120 (83.9%) have EVM wallet addresses.
Having set eleven goals but only completing four, should I just set four goals for 2026 next week?
P.S. At the start of a new year, I always accidentally write the previous year’s date. Sometimes it lasts a week or two; in extreme cases, I might still write the wrong year in March or April. I wonder: the better that year was, the more we reminisce, and the longer that reflex of writing the wrong year lasts? If that’s the case, how long will you keep writing “2025” next year?
I am an incurable deadline fighter. While everyone else reviews their year and winds down by Christmas, the Winter Solstice, or even Thanksgiving, I insist on procrastinating until the very end of the year—this exact moment, when Australia has already entered next year. I had no choice; work progress was poor this year, so it’s time for a final sprint. Whatever gets done, gets done.
So, how bad were this year’s results? I just dug out the “Top Ten Goals for 2025” I set at the beginning of the year. Counting on my fingers, I only completed four. “That’s still 40%,” you might say. Thanks for the comfort, but the “Top Ten” goals I set were actually zero-indexed, meaning there were eleven in total. I missed seven, making my success rate only 36%.
Here is the point-by-point review. A round of applause for the hits; a search for excuses for the misses.
Success: Published from #185 to the current issue #236, totaling 52 newsletters.
At the start of the year, I said my confidence index was 100%. Looking back, I was too optimistic. On several Wednesdays, I truly thought I was going to miss the deadline, but I always managed to pull it off at the last moment. When setting the same goal for 2026, I can’t say I’m 100% confident anymore—at most, I can say I’ll give 100% effort.
Failure: 89 Threads, 25 Tweets, 22 Facebook posts, 0 Instagram.
At the beginning of the year, I told myself to be more social. I just did the math: on Threads, my most “active” platform, I posted 89 times (including replies). That’s one post every four days. Real users probably post more than that in a week; in fact, they probably don’t even bother counting. As for Twitter (don’t remind me to call it X; I… X it!), it’s been modified beyond recognition. I only tweet occasionally, averaging once every two weeks.
I stopped looking at Facebook long ago and don’t expect others to look either, but I still thought I’d post there after finishing the newsletter each week. Despite that, I only managed 22 posts all year—mostly newsletters. That means I only remembered to post to FB for every three newsletters I wrote. But what does it matter? The reach for most posts is near zero, not to mention that seeing a post doesn’t mean people will click to read.
As for Instagram, which has become a primary information source for the masses, I continue to leave the page blank. I haven’t posted there in nearly five years.
Success: Sold 120 copies of the “True Fans Edition” and 499 copies of the “Public Edition”; gave away 23 Public copies; 642 copies in total.
I reached this goal easily only because I set it cunningly—the book was almost finished in early January. It would have been a miracle if I hadn’t reached it. Even with the Public Edition priced at 0.99 USD, I sold fewer than 500 copies, which leaves much to be desired. But since I didn’t set a specific sales target at the start of the year, I can shamelessly call it a success.
Success: 5 speeches, 5 guest appearances, and several other sharing sessions.
Early in the year, I held book launches at Have-A-Nice-Stay and Book Punch. The response was quite good; I remember the session at Have-A-Nice-Stay lasted until 2:00 AM—it nearly killed me.
Additionally, I shared topics related to decentralized publishing on three other occasions: the Taipei International Book Exhibition, Hualien “Island of Light,” and Tainan “Bubu Space.”
In the second half of the year, DHK dao organized five “Drifting Classrooms.” I tagged along as a guest for Phoebe, who was the lead speaker, visiting five venues—Have-A-Nice-Stay, Book Punch, Hunter Bookstore, Liber Research Community, and Kongcept—to share misconceptions about money.
Failure: Delayed until the end of the year with only slight progress.
At the start of the year, I said this was my “Main Quest.” Looking at it that way, I might have wasted 2025 entirely.
With a thick skin, I launched the “Book Voucher” for Attack on Freedom in December using the new IBO (Initial Book Offering) model. Thanks to everyone’s support, we’ve sold 80 copies so far (reaching 80% of the initial goal).
Regarding the text itself, I actually started writing at the end of last year. I dragged it out so long that when I revisited the manuscript recently, my thoughts had changed. Instead of patching it up, I decided to scrap it and start over. As of this morning, I’ve only rewritten a few thousand words. I’m almost embarrassed to say it. Regardless, I have finally re-entered the text before the new year arrives.
Total Failure: I completely forgot this goal existed.
If I hadn’t been writing this report card, I wouldn’t have even remembered setting this goal. This is excessive. However, even though most people rely on social media now, the importance of a blog has never wavered in my heart. Although I can’t spare the time or resources to revamp it right now, I will ensure that ckxpress.com continues to operate smoothly.
A failure, yet a success.
The failure: I didn’t find the time to organize my own million-plus words to train a Small Language Model (SLM) that writes in my style.
The success: I didn’t waste much time chasing every new AI model that came out. Things change so fast; there’s no rush. I’d rather slow down and wait for open-source models to become more mature and stable before I dive in. (Inner voice: Is this just a loser’s excuse?)
Success: Progress is looking good.
The NFT upgrade happened earlier than planned. The token upgrade was delayed by three months but was fully launched in early November. Overall, the operation has been very smooth.
Readers and authors without a technical background can now use embedded wallets seamlessly via email. Fees are negligible, and various dApps are integrating. The blockchain technology is finally moving into the background as applications enter the mainstream—the vision I’ve been waiting for years to see is finally emerging.
The v3 upgrade period lasts until February 2, 2026. Staked LikeCoin must be unbonded first (which takes 21 days). Users holding v2 LikeCoin (addresses starting with like1) should handle this by early January at the latest to avoid missing out.
Defeat: Missed it by a single day.
Even though I’m a deadline fighter, December 31st (a workday) just didn’t seem like the right time to open a shop. I admit defeat.
JustBooks is officially set to open tomorrow (!) on January 1, 2026. Tomorrow—or I should say today—anyway, it’s Thursday, January 1st. From 12:00 to 20:00, I will be at JustBooks for a party with no program, no ceremony, and no meat. If you have nothing else to do on New Year’s Day, feel free to drop by for a chat. But please, please do not bring gifts; buying an e-book is the best support you can give.
Just Books
Shop 8, B1/F, King’s Centre, 193 King’s Road (opposite Sum Kee Books)
Hours: @justbooks.852
Failure: Let it be, don’t force it.
Someone was supposed to take over at the beginning of the year, but he eventually left Hong Kong (bless him), so the plan fell through.
However, there was an unexpected bit of progress: The 221 Hong Kong books from UBR 2024 moved from my mini-storage unit to the shelves of JustBooks, available for any visitor to read.
Failure: but “less is more”?
At the end of last year, there were 168 Daoyau Pro members. One year later, there are only 143.
Wait, let me explain. Primarily, in the middle of the year, I proactively canceled all subscriptions and issued refunds, then invited everyone to re-subscribe on Substack. From a revenue perspective, active mass-unsubscribing is “courting death”—and I deserve it.
However, if the goal is maximizing engagement rather than revenue, the Daoyau Pros who returned are significantly more active. 105 of them (73.4%) joined the Signal group, and 120 (83.9%) have EVM wallet addresses.
Having set eleven goals but only completing four, should I just set four goals for 2026 next week?
P.S. At the start of a new year, I always accidentally write the previous year’s date. Sometimes it lasts a week or two; in extreme cases, I might still write the wrong year in March or April. I wonder: the better that year was, the more we reminisce, and the longer that reflex of writing the wrong year lasts? If that’s the case, how long will you keep writing “2025” next year?
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