The light from that broken computer screen is the only 'career' I can grasp in my shared apartment in Shenzhen. Instant noodle boxes piled at my feet, emitting the overnight sour stench just like those faded pink cotton slippers in the corner. My eyes are bloodshot as I hammer away at that project proposal I believe can change my fate, while my inbox is stuffed with cold rejection letters and 'let me think about it.' The rent is like a ticking time bomb, a death warrant plastered on the mottled wall.
One early morning, when exhaustion almost pushes me into the greasy keyboard, my phone screen suddenly lights up like a ghost. It's A Jie, the roommate who always mentions 'decentralization,' frantically spamming: 'It's flying! It’s all fucking flying!! Bitcoin! Ethereum! Look at this! Quick, look!' I blankly click on the link, and those wildly fluctuating, astronomical numbers on the screen feel like a series of blunt blows to my buzzing temple from staying up late and malnutrition. Those 'electronic waste' I once dismissed as jokes on forums, just a few cents or dimes, are now tearing apart all my notions of 'value' at rocket speed. I stare at the screen, then glance at this 'entrepreneurship' struggling on the edge of despair, and a massive absurdity grips me with dizziness. Outside, the lights of Shenzhen are still dazzling, yet the air in this tiny space is frozen in the silent smoke of instant noodles and bursting digital myths. The warmth lingering on my fingertips has long dissipated, like the snowflakes that will eventually melt in winter, leaving only cold, wet traces behind. $BTC