After eight years of ups and downs in the crypto world, I have seen the frenzy of digitized stacking and also penetrated the wrinkles of humanity within K-lines. This circle is like a precise filter, filtering out the warmth of life, leaving only the cold logic of rises and falls— the longer we stay, the more 'human flavor' is filtered out, seemingly like we have collectively entered a long spiritual abstinence.
We, this group of people, have enough U in our accounts to buy half a city, yet we are reluctant to pay an extra dollar for a bowl of hot soup at the corner; we can talk eloquently about the flow of funds on the market, yet suddenly fall silent when asked, 'Are you happy today?'. The screen light reflecting off the empty room late at night, the fluctuations of K-lines have become the only emotional anchor point, as for who we like or who cares about us, it has long become the most redundant parameter in the strategy sheet. Like countless others, I once treated 'major players offloading' as small talk and 'contract liquidation' as conversation material, until one day I realized I couldn't remember the last time my heart raced for a sweet word—at that moment, I suddenly realized that perhaps we are no longer 'humans', just trading machines disguised in human skins.
This circle resembles a gilded cage, using 'freedom' and 'innovation' as railings, while being overrun by greedy vines. The decentralization promoted by Web3 should have been the key to breaking free from shackles, but in the end, it became a barrier that alienates us from each other: trust is weighed as a bargaining chip, warmth is seen as a weakness to attack, and even a budding romantic feeling must first pass a risk assessment of 'Is he just making empty promises?'. Interests have become the only universal language, all soft, emotional, and human folds have been flattened and smoothed by the gears of trade.
I once thought this place was a vast wilderness for chasing dreams, where I could ride the winds of blockchain towards financial freedom. Now I understand, it is more like a walled city with no exit, where what is trapped is not the physical body, but the authenticity that would pause for a flower blooming or be moved by a simple greeting. Do we miss our original selves? That person who would blush at the words 'I like you', that person who could laugh like a fool in the rain with friends. I dare not reminisce, because in this soil that only recognizes profit, missing the softness will be ridiculed. But I want to tightly hold these fragments—they are the stars in the dark night, reminding me: what makes us human is not how thick the numbers in our accounts are, but how warm the temperature in our hearts is.
Perhaps throughout one’s life, one may never find the holy grail that balances numbers and humanity. But at this moment, I suddenly want to tell my future self: Don't rush, take your time. After all, compared to becoming a winner in the crypto world, perhaps it’s more important to regain that loving self.
