At 18, you chose to “trade coins” online because you’d heard, “you can make money.”

The day the computer was delivered, your father crouched on the doorstep and smoked three cigarettes.
At 22, you graduated. The employment instructor asked, “Do you want a job?”
You shook your head—you just kept trading coins, mindlessly.
They didn’t ask whether you liked this industry; they only asked whether you could make money.
At 25, you were trading coins at home. The computer ran the program you wrote, down to the last detail.
The fan was loud. No one could hear the old, outdated computer in your mind, the occasional “click-clack” it made.
At 30, you got married.
At the wedding, the host teased, “The groom is a filthy coin trader—so there’s no need to worry about being caught in a bad position at home later!”
The guests burst into laughter. No one knew that you were actually most afraid of someone at home getting trapped by the losses.
Because when there’s no market, all you want is to stay away from those charts and data.