Poured in two more syringes—so thin, like the fifty-cent cup of rice porridge from the school gate twelve years ago.

We used to study shitcoins together, charge into Alpha, and stay up late to snipe airdrops, always thinking the next CA would be what made us financially free. Later, there were more and more wallets, more and more NFTs, more and more screenshots—but the balance kept getting less and less.
One day, staring at a pile of tokens that had all gone to zero, I suddenly remembered those nights when we kept shouting “Diamond Hands” together.
My phone buzzed—no “got rich” notification, just a new MEME going live.
As if someone gently asked:
“So, did you get rich later?”
I looked down at my wallet.
The ones who got rich were the project team—not me.
GN everyone