These past couple of days, I got caught up in the excitement of meme hype again, and the moment I started telling the story, my hand got itchy. Only after placing the order did I realize the depth was as thin as paper—slippage felt like writing poetry: each tick up lined up with a rhyming loss. Basically, stop-loss isn’t romantic, but you’d better write a good “exit speech” first.

My current clumsy method is: before entering, think through how you’ll leave if the story falls apart—at what price, how bad the liquidity can get—don’t stubbornly hold on. I’d rather take a small hit than fantasize about “waiting a bit longer.” The whole chain-game crash routine has already played out: once inflation opens the floodgates, once studios move in, and once coin prices spiral—what shatters first isn’t the game, it’s people’s luck.

Anyway, I stick my “exit speech” on the side of the screen, and when things get lively, I remind myself: don’t mistake slippage for rhyme—treat it like an alarm.