abo nasr eldin 1

$BTC
Do you now know the importance of the number 64630? 🔥
Before opening the monthly candle, and when the price was trading around

63000 we did not treat it as a temporary support or resistance; instead, we clearly defined it as a separation zone and a decision point for determining the trend.
The idea was simple:

Holding and closing above 64630 = continued positive building.

Losing it and breaking it = opening the door to deeper corrections and a retest of the zone.

After Abu Kobaiea tasted the flavor of fame, he realized that ordinary begging was no longer enough—and that he needed to develop his project the way big companies develop. He spent a whole night drawing up a new plan, then said to himself: “If I don’t know anything about analysis, why not hire someone else who doesn’t know anything either?” And indeed, he gathered around him a group of failed analysts whose charts looked like children’s scribbles, with irregular waves. They agreed on a strange deal: “You talk… and I’ll collect the donations… and you’ll get a share of whatever we manage to get.” Everyone agreed without hesitation, and so the Abu Kobaiea Tea Global Academy began its work.

Episode One:
The beginning of the story was not something anyone expected him to become the new-era tea pot doctor of modern gatherings—not because he had knowledge or experience, but because he was searching for the shortest path to fame.
He lived a simple life, having neither money, status, nor a profession that could open doors to the future. As for reading and learning, they were not among his interests; he raised pigeons, stole other people’s pigeons, and, as the saying goes in colloquial Arabic (“sharash al-hamam” — pigeon thieves). He was known among those who knew him for the sharpness of his tongue and his excessive boldness, so much so that he came to believe that rudeness was a kind of intelligence.

One day, while he was flying a pigeon and trying to steal other people’s pigeons, an advertisement for a platform for trading cryptocurrencies stuck to his face. The idea sparked in his mind. He said to himself, “Why should I exhaust myself with learning? Confidence is enough—people will believe what the platform says.” So he created an account, then began opening live streams as if he were an expert who had spent years studying the markets—handing out analysis to the right and left, using big words whose meanings he didn’t understand, while viewers followed his talk in amazement.

As days went by, he discovered that some people believe whoever speaks with confidence. So he started hinting at his need for money and repeating, in every stream, heart-rending phrases until he began to say, laughing: “Folks… we want to drink tea!” He was waiting for donations to pour in, not for any reason other than that he had learned how to tap into the emotions of some.

Then an idea even stranger than all the rest came to him. Each time he made a mistake in an analysis or dodged a question, he sat on a new chair—until the followers started joking with him, saying: “It looks like you have a chair factory—every day a different chair appears.”