$ETH Because I was liquidated and had nothing to do, I squatted by the roadside, lighting a discarded cigarette butt.

The flame flickered, and my chest felt like it had opened a position, burning hotly yet bringing a familiar thrill.

I know it's bad.

Just like I know that trading contracts is like drinking poison to quench thirst.

Each puff of smoke is like leveraging up, choking and making my eyes water, yet I can't help but inhale it.

Some people advise me to quit smoking.

Just like some people advise me not to trade contracts.

But is advice useful?

I understand very clearly—

Contracts hurt me every day, and being liquidated is like the choking sensation of smoke oil,

Yet as long as the K-line on the screen is still moving, I'm like a blind addict, knowing the fire will burn but still reaching out to touch it.

You advise me not to trade contracts for my own good.

But why?

Why, knowing it is destructive, do we still want to play with it?

Just like this cigarette butt, knowing it’s toxic waste left in the trash, yet I still light it and smoke it to the end.

Perhaps that's just how people are.

Shouting that we want to live longer, while desperately sucking away the last bit of remaining vitality.

Shouting that contracts harm people, yet secretly opening positions and fantasizing about getting rich.

The most absurd truth in this world is:

We are not addicted because it’s good, but because we can’t live without it, we sink deeper.

But at the moment I watched the ash fall, I suddenly laughed.

Since living is a slow liquidation, and since we will one day be reckoned with by fate,

Then why not pull the lever to the extreme in the final madness?

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So, fellow friends, don’t advise me anymore.

I still want to smoke, and I still want to trade contracts.

Tonight I will go long on ETH,

Just like lighting a second cigarette—

Knowing it will choke, yet it feels so good it makes one shiver.