After being in the game for a while, you'll realize that those repeatedly played scenarios actually have a script; we are merely retail investors following the script: just when you heavily invest, it crashes; just when you cut losses, it rebounds; just when you take profits, it skyrockets... Initially, you think it's bad luck; later, you understand it's all a carefully designed play by the market.
Seeing through these tricks may not make you rich, but it can help you avoid losses and not become a retail investor:
A slow decline during the day is like an old lady taking a walk; a day of slow drops without volume isn't a true crash, it's fishing—waiting for the European and American markets to open to pull you back in an instant.
A sudden rise during the day is like a scumbag showing affection; the more blatant the pump, the more likely it is a prelude to unloading. Just when you feel moved, the sickle is already raised above your head.
Wicks are like harassment from a psychotic ex; they are never accidents but deliberately aimed at your stop-loss line, precisely timed like a midnight call.
Messages are like meat buns in a canteen; by the time you smell the aroma and rush over, only soup is left in the pot. Those who truly eat meat have already secured their seats through insider information.
The livelier the group chat, the more vigilant you must be; it resembles a pyramid scheme scene. When the retail investors are collectively excited, it signals that the big players are preparing to net them.
Coins that can truly double are like a cleaning monk, always ignored in the corner before they take off. Those popular coins that flood screens have long been closely watched by the big players.
Heavy investment is like driving drunk; the more you invest, the more you wear a filter, even if the K-line forms a tombstone, you might still see it as a golden pit.
The stop-loss line is like a harvesting line drawn by big players; you think it's a defense, but it's actually a trap targeting the psychology of retail investors; once it breaks, it's a collective 'jumping off the cliff.'
Getting out of a losing position is like a donkey chasing a carrot; every time it drops 1% from breakeven, it falls again. The big players know your holding costs better than you do.
Missing out is like an ex becoming rich after a breakup; just when you clear your holdings, it skyrockets—not a coincidence, but the big players are just waiting to wash out the last batch of retail investors.
The top is like free drinks in a casino; the more excited, fearful, or eager to recover you are, the more likely you are to make foolish moves. Remember, staying calm is worth more than anything.
Being out of the market is like having delusions when selecting a concubine; with money in hand, every coin looks like a potential stock, but it's merely an illusion driven by the fear of missing out.
Those who understand how to survive in the crypto world know: it's not about who operates fiercely, but who can last longer.
Only when you can laugh and pierce through these tricks can you be said to have truly grasped the door.
