#Gate广场五月交易分享

It's not fully dawn yet, and the biological clock is more accurate than the alarm clock. As soon as I open my eyes, I reach for my phone; my mind is still fuzzy, but my fingertips are already skillfully opening the exchange app. No choice, the crypto market runs 24/7 nonstop, and meme coins are even more restless, never a moment at peace. Who knows when in the early morning another "bankruptcy show" will unfold.

The screen lights up, and my heart skips a beat first, like opening a blind box but afraid of a scare. My eyes fix on the watchlist, filled with dense red and green numbers, each one tugging at my nerves. Last night, I was still fantasizing about which "stray dog" coin could make a move, but this morning, it all turned into a "nightmare"—blinding red everywhere, a sea of green plunging arrows, some halved in value, some dropping to almost nothing, and others "zeroing out" and lying flat.

My mind instantly feels a mix of emotions—anger, laughter, helplessness. Anger at these meme coins with no morals, surging wildly when rising, irrational when falling, capable of wiping out all unrealized gains overnight, even losing the principal. Laughter because I should be used to it by now—these meme coins, during the day "believing a hundredfold," at night "panicking at zero," their rises and falls driven entirely by market sentiment, with no rules. Helpless because, even knowing it's high-risk speculation, I can't help but chase the "get-rich-quick" dream, only to mostly end up "being harvested."

Fingers swipe through the market data, seeing some coins plummeting over 50% in 24 hours, some crashing from the peak to the bottom, liquidity dried up, hard to sell. Looking at the group chat, there's a chorus of wails—some cutting losses overnight, some lying flat pretending to be dead, some comforting each other "Hold on, it will bounce back," and others self-deprecating "Sent another bag to the whales."

Actually, I already have the answer in my heart: 99% of meme coins are doomed to zero eventually. But in this circle, I still hold a glimmer of hope, always thinking I might catch that 1% miracle. Waking up every day to check the market has become an ingrained habit—not out of greed, but because after repeated market beatings, I can't shake this "crypto addiction."

Alright, accept reality, wash up, and get to work. After all, after a sharp drop, someone is always waiting for the next rebound, and we are just that group of "crypto workers" who always hold onto hope.