Legend of the Trash Dog Coin
At half past three in the morning, Chen Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
He was an ordinary programmer, earning 12,000 yuan a month. Every day he squeezed onto the subway to work. After work, his only pastime was scrolling through the Binance Square, watching other people post their returns. Those screenshots showing everything doubling and tripling made him itch with envy, but every time he threw real money in, he either got trapped or cut his losses.
That night, on the Square, he saw someone shouting that GLMR was about to take off. Back then, GLMR was only $0.0008. Its market cap was pitifully small. In the comments, half the people were calling it a scammer, and the other half were yelling “buy in!” Chen Hao hesitated for two hours, and finally used half a month’s salary to buy $2,000 worth of GLMR.
The moment he bought it, he regretted it. The price slid from $0.0008 to $0.00084. He stared at the candlestick chart all night without sleeping, repeatedly cursing himself for being so greedy. The next day at work, during a meeting, he zoned out and got called out by his boss. He couldn’t even eat his lunch.
For the next three days, GLMR just hovered around $0.0009. Chen Hao had already mentally prepared himself to exit with a 30% loss. He even had figured out how to explain it to his wife after cutting his losses.
On the fourth day morning, he was jolted awake by his phone vibrating. He opened it—GLMR was up 40%. He thought he hadn’t woken up yet. He rubbed his eyes and checked again. Yes, it was really up. The group chat had blown up: some people shouted the target of $0.002, while others said it was time to move to Binance’s Innovation Zone.
Chen Hao didn’t sell. He remembered how every time he made a 10% profit, he ran. And how he’d missed the following tenfold rally. This time, he decided to hold.
A week later, GLMR surged to $0.0014. His $2,000 turned into $5,200. Someone in the group started posting screenshots of 100x returns. Chen Hao felt the itch too, but he still didn’t move.
Three more days passed, and the price suddenly started to pull back. Dropping from $0.0014 to $0.0011, the group’s atmosphere shifted from celebration to panic. Some people shouted “buy the dip!” Others yelled “run now!” Chen Hao’s hands were shaking. He stared at the rapidly changing numbers on the screen, and finally sold everything at around $0.0013.
The moment the funds landed, he let out a long breath. $2,000 became $4,800. He hadn’t sold at the absolute peak, but this was the first time in his entire crypto career that he truly made money.
He didn’t take the profit out. Instead, he put it all into STRK. Because he knew that in this market, greed and fear would always be tugging at each other—and the real winners are the ones who learn to find balance between the two.
Outside the window, the sky was already bright. Chen Hao turned off his phone, and for the first time in a long while, he slept soundly.
#GLMR #STRK #加密货币
At half past three in the morning, Chen Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
He was an ordinary programmer, earning 12,000 yuan a month. Every day he squeezed onto the subway to work. After work, his only pastime was scrolling through the Binance Square, watching other people post their returns. Those screenshots showing everything doubling and tripling made him itch with envy, but every time he threw real money in, he either got trapped or cut his losses.
That night, on the Square, he saw someone shouting that GLMR was about to take off. Back then, GLMR was only $0.0008. Its market cap was pitifully small. In the comments, half the people were calling it a scammer, and the other half were yelling “buy in!” Chen Hao hesitated for two hours, and finally used half a month’s salary to buy $2,000 worth of GLMR.
The moment he bought it, he regretted it. The price slid from $0.0008 to $0.00084. He stared at the candlestick chart all night without sleeping, repeatedly cursing himself for being so greedy. The next day at work, during a meeting, he zoned out and got called out by his boss. He couldn’t even eat his lunch.
For the next three days, GLMR just hovered around $0.0009. Chen Hao had already mentally prepared himself to exit with a 30% loss. He even had figured out how to explain it to his wife after cutting his losses.
On the fourth day morning, he was jolted awake by his phone vibrating. He opened it—GLMR was up 40%. He thought he hadn’t woken up yet. He rubbed his eyes and checked again. Yes, it was really up. The group chat had blown up: some people shouted the target of $0.002, while others said it was time to move to Binance’s Innovation Zone.
Chen Hao didn’t sell. He remembered how every time he made a 10% profit, he ran. And how he’d missed the following tenfold rally. This time, he decided to hold.
A week later, GLMR surged to $0.0014. His $2,000 turned into $5,200. Someone in the group started posting screenshots of 100x returns. Chen Hao felt the itch too, but he still didn’t move.
Three more days passed, and the price suddenly started to pull back. Dropping from $0.0014 to $0.0011, the group’s atmosphere shifted from celebration to panic. Some people shouted “buy the dip!” Others yelled “run now!” Chen Hao’s hands were shaking. He stared at the rapidly changing numbers on the screen, and finally sold everything at around $0.0013.
The moment the funds landed, he let out a long breath. $2,000 became $4,800. He hadn’t sold at the absolute peak, but this was the first time in his entire crypto career that he truly made money.
He didn’t take the profit out. Instead, he put it all into STRK. Because he knew that in this market, greed and fear would always be tugging at each other—and the real winners are the ones who learn to find balance between the two.
Outside the window, the sky was already bright. Chen Hao turned off his phone, and for the first time in a long while, he slept soundly.
#GLMR #STRK #加密货币