A year ago, I sent a friend at #venezuela a news story about BofA giving loans to its customers using $BTC as collateral. He had an account there, a privilege the #venezolanos don't have, and I thought he'd be happy.

At that moment, a U.S. naval fleet was enforcing a blockade in the country's territorial waters. His response was: "The world could be falling apart and you're still in your Bitcoin World, some thing you buy and a few weeks later you're at a loss." A passive-aggressive response.

In the short term, yes, Bitcoin feels like swallowing broken glass. In the long term, Bitcoin feels like owning the money-printing machine that's stealing from everyone else. The chart goes up. Then it goes down. It makes men and women cry over their #Binance accounts, and many solemnly declare its funeral for the thirty-sixth time. Then it goes up again. Further than before. Higher than they said was possible. Here's what's uncomfortable: the discomfort is the return. Every panicked seller who hands over their Bitcoin is handing their future to someone with a longer time horizon. This isn't about ignoring volatility. It's about outlasting it. Because on a long enough timeline, Bitcoin doesn't feel like a gamble. It feels like the only decision you made that actually made sense.