The most ridiculous thing about myself is this: when I’m “floating” on profit, I sleep like a pig; when I’m down—even just a little—my brain automatically goes on night shift, repeatedly thinking, “Should I cut?” “What if it gets worse?” Even though it hasn’t happened yet, plain and simple, I just don’t want to admit I chose wrong. The part that’s losing feels like it’s grown into my heart—like I can’t pull it out.

Recently, people keep comparing RWA and even things like U.S. bond yields to on-chain returns, right? I also get restless and want to move things around, but the moment I think, “What if I step into a trap the second I switch,” that kind of uncertainty is more torturous than just earning a little less. Anyway, my definition of “long-term” is pretty cowardly: if I can get through two waves of emotional overexcitement, then I guess that’s about a month to a quarter… For me, weekly candles can only be called “just gritting it out.” If Gas is expensive, I’ll keep doing my idle messing around—don’t scare myself in the middle of the night.