The Shitcoin Saga: The Night I Became an Early BMT Believer
At 2:30 a.m., I stared at my phone screen, barely able to keep my eyes open.
Someone in the group chat said BMT had suddenly seen a surge in on-chain volume, and its price was climbing from 0.022U. I didn’t believe it at first. It was such a small coin, with a market cap of less than ten million and usually dead trading volume. Who would suddenly start buying it?
But I opened the exchange anyway.
On the candlestick chart, BMT’s bars were shooting up one after another, as if someone had set them on fire. 0.025, 0.028, 0.031. My hands started shaking—not from the cold, but because I still had three thousand U sitting in my account, left over from last month’s paycheck.
Should I buy or not?
I thought about my experience buying ANIME last year. I got in at 0.005U, thinking it could rise to 0.01. Instead, it kept falling all the way to 0.001, and I sold at the absolute bottom. I lost eight hundred U that time, and felt awful for two whole months.
But tonight was different. BMT’s on-chain data was surging, and the number of holder addresses had increased by more than two hundred in half an hour. This wasn’t a whale pumping the price—people were genuinely scrambling to buy.
I gritted my teeth and put in a market order for one thousand U.
My average fill was 0.033. I regretted it as soon as I bought, because the price suddenly pulled back to 0.029. Watching my unrealized loss climb past a hundred U, I put my phone face down on the table and went to the bathroom.
When I got back, it was at 0.035.
Twenty minutes later, 0.041.
Messages started flooding the group chat. “BMT is about to take off!” “Early buyers are making bank!” “Target: 0.1.” I stared at the candlestick, my heart pounding like it was about to leap out of my chest. At the peak, the screen showed 0.05144. My one thousand U had turned into nearly one thousand five hundred.
I didn’t sell.
Because I saw someone in the group say there was a market-making team behind the project, planning to pump it to a hundred-million market cap. My head was full of images of getting rich overnight: ten thousand U turning into fifty thousand, then fifty thousand turning into two hundred thousand.
Then came the pullback.
It crashed from 0.051 to 0.037 in just forty minutes. The “early buyers” in the group started cursing. Some said they’d report it; others said they’d seek justice. I silently watched my account go from five hundred U in unrealized profit to just a few dozen U, my finger hovering over the sell button, unable to press it.
In the end, I placed a limit order at 0.038 and sold everything.
I walked away with one thousand one hundred and forty U. A profit of one hundred and forty.
One of the old hands in the group said I had no vision, that I should’ve held until at least 0.1. I smiled and said nothing.
Because only I knew that when it pulled back to 0.029, I’d almost sold all one thousand U at the very bottom.
The first thing shitcoins taught me wasn’t how to get rich overnight. It was how to find a balance between fear and greed that would let me sleep at night.
BMT is still hovering around 0.037. Maybe it’ll rise again; maybe it’ll go to zero. But I’ve had enough of that roller coaster ride from that night.
#BMT #加密货币 #ShitcoinSaga
At 2:30 a.m., I stared at my phone screen, barely able to keep my eyes open.
Someone in the group chat said BMT had suddenly seen a surge in on-chain volume, and its price was climbing from 0.022U. I didn’t believe it at first. It was such a small coin, with a market cap of less than ten million and usually dead trading volume. Who would suddenly start buying it?
But I opened the exchange anyway.
On the candlestick chart, BMT’s bars were shooting up one after another, as if someone had set them on fire. 0.025, 0.028, 0.031. My hands started shaking—not from the cold, but because I still had three thousand U sitting in my account, left over from last month’s paycheck.
Should I buy or not?
I thought about my experience buying ANIME last year. I got in at 0.005U, thinking it could rise to 0.01. Instead, it kept falling all the way to 0.001, and I sold at the absolute bottom. I lost eight hundred U that time, and felt awful for two whole months.
But tonight was different. BMT’s on-chain data was surging, and the number of holder addresses had increased by more than two hundred in half an hour. This wasn’t a whale pumping the price—people were genuinely scrambling to buy.
I gritted my teeth and put in a market order for one thousand U.
My average fill was 0.033. I regretted it as soon as I bought, because the price suddenly pulled back to 0.029. Watching my unrealized loss climb past a hundred U, I put my phone face down on the table and went to the bathroom.
When I got back, it was at 0.035.
Twenty minutes later, 0.041.
Messages started flooding the group chat. “BMT is about to take off!” “Early buyers are making bank!” “Target: 0.1.” I stared at the candlestick, my heart pounding like it was about to leap out of my chest. At the peak, the screen showed 0.05144. My one thousand U had turned into nearly one thousand five hundred.
I didn’t sell.
Because I saw someone in the group say there was a market-making team behind the project, planning to pump it to a hundred-million market cap. My head was full of images of getting rich overnight: ten thousand U turning into fifty thousand, then fifty thousand turning into two hundred thousand.
Then came the pullback.
It crashed from 0.051 to 0.037 in just forty minutes. The “early buyers” in the group started cursing. Some said they’d report it; others said they’d seek justice. I silently watched my account go from five hundred U in unrealized profit to just a few dozen U, my finger hovering over the sell button, unable to press it.
In the end, I placed a limit order at 0.038 and sold everything.
I walked away with one thousand one hundred and forty U. A profit of one hundred and forty.
One of the old hands in the group said I had no vision, that I should’ve held until at least 0.1. I smiled and said nothing.
Because only I knew that when it pulled back to 0.029, I’d almost sold all one thousand U at the very bottom.
The first thing shitcoins taught me wasn’t how to get rich overnight. It was how to find a balance between fear and greed that would let me sleep at night.
BMT is still hovering around 0.037. Maybe it’ll rise again; maybe it’ll go to zero. But I’ve had enough of that roller coaster ride from that night.
#BMT #加密货币 #ShitcoinSaga