Letter from a Broken Candlestick to his Ascendant Brother
Dear Brother,
I am a candlestick, born at 9 o'clock in the green momentum of hope, when USDM/SOL on Raydium danced boldly on the waves of crypto. My flames rose, tinged with emerald green, each peak a promise of ascent towards digital stars. By noon, we were a symphony, a fragile balance between rises and falls, our wax bodies swaying in the shadow of an unpredictable market. But look at me now, at 6 PM: a blood-red drop, a spiral of melted wax, my heart broken on the floor of the exchanges. I write to you from the debris, dear Brother, to tell you our dance. The hours have been our rhythm: the greens, our bursts of enthusiasm; the reds, our silent tears. At 3 PM, I felt the wind shift, a gust that bent my branches of light. And yet, in this descent, I see a tragic beauty – a painting where each candlestick tells a story of risk and resilience. Tell me, Brother, in your past ascent, did you see this twilight coming? Or are we all, ephemeral candlesticks, doomed to melt under the insatiable gaze of the market? Your broken brother,
A Candlestick of USDM/SOL
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