The Shitcoin Saga: My 30,000-Yuan MET
At 3:17 a.m., my phone buzzed.
Half-asleep, I reached for it. There was a notification from Binance. I hadn’t planned to check it, but the letters MET caught my eye. That afternoon, I’d seen a post on the app’s feed saying MET was going to be used for metaverse payments. It was only 0.31 yuan at the time, so I didn’t think much of it.
But the notification said: MET is up more than 25%.
I woke up instantly and opened the candlestick chart, my hands shaking. The price had jumped from 0.31 to 0.43 yuan. I still had 120 MET in my account—the ones I’d casually bought that afternoon for 37.2 yuan.
37.2 yuan had become 51.7 yuan.
I stared at the screen. One thought flashed through my mind: I’d only made 14 yuan. What was there to get excited about? But another voice said: When you bought it this afternoon, you had no idea it would go up.
I didn’t sell.
The next morning, MET surged to 0.46 yuan. My 37 yuan had become 55. I started doing the math. What if I’d bought 3,000 yuan’ worth? What if I’d bought 30,000?
Once that thought entered my head, I couldn’t push it back out.
Over lunch, I transferred the last 30,000 yuan in my bank account to Binance. A coworker asked me what was going on. I said, “Nothing. I just think this coin’s about to take off.” He gave a little laugh. I’ll remember that laugh for the rest of my life.
I went all in at 0.41 yuan, buying 73,000 MET. The moment I’d finished, I thought I was a genius.
At two in the afternoon, MET hit 0.46 yuan. I was up 3,600 yuan.
At four, MET fell to 0.44 yuan. I told myself it was a normal correction.
At eight that night, MET dropped to 0.38 yuan. My 30,000 yuan was down to 27,000.
At eleven, MET crashed to 0.32 yuan.
I stared at the number. 0.32—almost 22% below the 0.41 yuan I’d paid that afternoon. My 30,000 yuan had become 23,000. Seven thousand yuan had vanished.
I thought about how excited I’d been when I went all in that afternoon. I thought about my coworker’s laugh. I thought about how I’d jumped in without even understanding the candlestick chart.
That 3:17 a.m. notification had been fate warning me. I didn’t listen.
Later, MET climbed back to 0.43 yuan, but I was no longer on board. I cut my losses at 0.35 yuan, down nearly 5,000 yuan.
That 5,000 yuan was two months’ worth of food for me.
Now, whenever I open Binance, I check the price of MET. It just sits there quietly, sometimes rising a little, sometimes falling a little, as if nothing ever happened.
But I know I’ll remember the lesson that 30,000 yuan taught me for the rest of my life.
Never go all in on something you don’t understand. Never.
#MET #SAND #Futures liquidation
At 3:17 a.m., my phone buzzed.
Half-asleep, I reached for it. There was a notification from Binance. I hadn’t planned to check it, but the letters MET caught my eye. That afternoon, I’d seen a post on the app’s feed saying MET was going to be used for metaverse payments. It was only 0.31 yuan at the time, so I didn’t think much of it.
But the notification said: MET is up more than 25%.
I woke up instantly and opened the candlestick chart, my hands shaking. The price had jumped from 0.31 to 0.43 yuan. I still had 120 MET in my account—the ones I’d casually bought that afternoon for 37.2 yuan.
37.2 yuan had become 51.7 yuan.
I stared at the screen. One thought flashed through my mind: I’d only made 14 yuan. What was there to get excited about? But another voice said: When you bought it this afternoon, you had no idea it would go up.
I didn’t sell.
The next morning, MET surged to 0.46 yuan. My 37 yuan had become 55. I started doing the math. What if I’d bought 3,000 yuan’ worth? What if I’d bought 30,000?
Once that thought entered my head, I couldn’t push it back out.
Over lunch, I transferred the last 30,000 yuan in my bank account to Binance. A coworker asked me what was going on. I said, “Nothing. I just think this coin’s about to take off.” He gave a little laugh. I’ll remember that laugh for the rest of my life.
I went all in at 0.41 yuan, buying 73,000 MET. The moment I’d finished, I thought I was a genius.
At two in the afternoon, MET hit 0.46 yuan. I was up 3,600 yuan.
At four, MET fell to 0.44 yuan. I told myself it was a normal correction.
At eight that night, MET dropped to 0.38 yuan. My 30,000 yuan was down to 27,000.
At eleven, MET crashed to 0.32 yuan.
I stared at the number. 0.32—almost 22% below the 0.41 yuan I’d paid that afternoon. My 30,000 yuan had become 23,000. Seven thousand yuan had vanished.
I thought about how excited I’d been when I went all in that afternoon. I thought about my coworker’s laugh. I thought about how I’d jumped in without even understanding the candlestick chart.
That 3:17 a.m. notification had been fate warning me. I didn’t listen.
Later, MET climbed back to 0.43 yuan, but I was no longer on board. I cut my losses at 0.35 yuan, down nearly 5,000 yuan.
That 5,000 yuan was two months’ worth of food for me.
Now, whenever I open Binance, I check the price of MET. It just sits there quietly, sometimes rising a little, sometimes falling a little, as if nothing ever happened.
But I know I’ll remember the lesson that 30,000 yuan taught me for the rest of my life.
Never go all in on something you don’t understand. Never.
#MET #SAND #Futures liquidation