Eight years in the crypto world, the first thing I learned is not to look at the rise or fall, but to learn to be afraid.

Being afraid of death is what keeps you alive; being afraid of going crazy is what keeps you steady; risking everything is the only chance to slowly win.
I've seen too many people go upstairs in the elevator, and even more have the elevator break down.
Old Liu is a living example—bet everything on a single trade, and soon there's nothing left but dust.
He asked me if the main players were watching his orders; I only asked, did you think about the worst possible outcome before going all-in?
He grinned awkwardly, looking more like crying than smiling, saying he only wanted to double his money and then buy a car.
I pulled him back home, split the remaining funds into multiple small bullets, and set tight stop-losses on small proportions.
Taking it slow is insurance for life; rushing is lighting incense on a grave.
He rolled his eyes and said, “This turtle pace is worse than just emptying the bag on airdrops.”
A week later, a project opened and was halved in price; he lost a small part and then ran away.
In the past, he would have gone all in and caused trouble immediately.
That night, he bought me a beer, foam overflowing from the glass, and said, “Turns out, being afraid can also save your life.”
The second step: swap all trash coins for mainstream coins, split the position in two.
If the price drops more than a certain percentage in a day, buy a small part; if it rises more than a certain percentage, sell a small part.
The rest of the time, hands off the keyboard, go for a run, spend time with family.
A few months later, his account climbed back up, and he took profits into cold storage each time.
Watching the RMB stack like bricks feels more solid than chasing floating gains.
He no longer stares at the market in the middle of the night, nor is he scared by news, causing his heartbeat to race uncontrollably.
Another year passed, his account reached a good number, he’s still half a step away from breaking even, but he’s already out.
He used to want to make a comeback; now he wants to save his capital.
Used to gamble with his life; now he cherishes it.
Let me add, once enough capital is saved, the rest will naturally turn around.
The most scarce thing in crypto isn’t insider info, but self-control.
The strongest moat isn’t technology, but fear.
Fear of drifting away, fear of being led by emotions.
Now Old Liu sleeps on time, moves his exchange account to an inconspicuous place, and keeps his eyes away from it.
Market trends are like the subway—every three minutes a train;
life only has one, if you miss it, it’s gone forever.
I don’t have a light in my hand, only remind him: dawn is near, don’t run in the dark.
Slow down, only then will the light catch up. $BTC