Bitcoin Crashed. Everyone Ran. I Stayed.

I used to call it strategy — those frenzied nights glued to the screen, chart lines slashing like heart monitors, red candles devouring my sleep. But the truth? I wasn’t trading. I was reacting. Twitching on command. Hooked on volatility. Lured by the illusion of mastery, I didn’t realize I was just another input for the exchange’s machine — my liquidity, my clicks, my time.

They don’t need you to win. They need you to stay. Stay long enough to over-leverage, to revenge-click, to believe you're due. Every pump is bait, every dump a lesson served too late. It’s not a market — it’s a mechanism built to extract attention, not reward discipline.

Then came the crash. Not the first, but the one that made everything make sense. I didn’t panic this time. I didn’t press a thing. I just saw it — clearly. This was never trading. This was distraction. Performance art wrapped in false urgency.

So I stopped chasing signals. I chose silence. I stopped reacting — and started knowing. Let the market scream. I’m done dancing for its applause.#CreatorPad