Posts

The Rat Race Reloaded

avatar of @warpedpoetic
25
@warpedpoetic
·
0 views
·
4 min read

I can almost taste success. The reward for my attempts at bettering my life seem close to my fingertips—i can almost see it. The clock hand strikes the new minute. I rush back to my wallet, refresh the contents and the price stares right at me—nothing! Nothing has changed. I must be mistaken, I say to myself. I refresh the wallet again. The truth unravels; all the tokens are dumping and they are dumping hard. The whales have entered my little pond and they are selling everything in it. I could weep. Pixabay It took me six months to gather this hoard of tokens. I followed the news, listened to crypto gossips, watched the charts, prayed several novenas before buying in with the little money I had saved from a writing gig. This was supposed to be my emancipation. This was supposed to be my testimony. With each ticking moment, it is evolving into ashes. I have built a charnel house out of hope and desperation.

Because of my fear of missing out, because of fear, uncertainty and desperation, because of greed, I sought another coin for my remaining balance. The list of its fickle accomplishments are placed before me. It has its liquidity locked forever on unicrypt. Ownership of the token has been rejected. It has a burn function. 2% of the transaction fee goes to hodlers and I am early—just 300 hodlers. I buy.

I cannot sleep at night. I stare at the exchange on my phone, willing the price of the token to go up. I check my other investments from time to time with the hope of a miracle but no!—two tokens have done a rugpull, one has had it's liquidity removed and the other shows high impact. The rest have dumped into utter hell. My chest feels tight. My heart feels swollen like a dead tongue. I can't breathe. I can't sit at home waiting like this. I call a friend to meet, get up and leave the house.

I drink and smoke, chat about this and that, laugh hard at proffered jokes and while the day into night. Soon I must go home. Soon I must face my fear. We say good night, my mind already halfway into the content of my wallet. I arrive home. I can't eat. I don't know if it is the bottles of beer that has filled my stomach or fear. I lie down and open my wallet to see that my newly bought token has appreciated. It has done x100. I am thrilled. I have made profit finally. I should sell and count my losses. I ask myself the question every investor must have asked their selves at one time or the other in their career; what if the token continues to pump? What if this point is lowest it will ever be? What if it pumps so hard my 5$ investments becomes 100,000$? Let me leave it a little bit longer.

I watch the token pump all through the night. I am excited. I can feel the adrenaline pour into my brain, saturating me with a high that alcohol or weed cannot give. I am so thrilled, I do not even bother with my other tokens. By 4.30am, my body can no longer take the strain, I fall asleep. At 7:23 am, my phone begins to ring. I open my eyes to a brand new day. I still feel the echoes of that adrenaline high plus the hangover of my bottles of beer. I pick the call and an excited voice asks me if I sold a token that mooned that night? I did not, I reply. The excitement dampens. It mooned real good but has dumped below buying price now. My fingers flee down my password into my wallet.

The human heart is brittle. It is in our nature to pretend otherwise so we sing and dance, make corny jokes even though we hurt. My tokens are done. The token pumping hard last night is now nothing but dust in the wind. The price is worthless and transactions seem to have slowed down to a trickle. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

I go to the group to read comments from anyone who may have bought the token. Some had sold early and made their small profits. Some had sold at its highest price and made mad profits. Some had sold when the token experienced a downward surge and some like me, were left holding the bag. It was a bloodbath. My 5$ suddenly seemed so small compared to what others had lost. So we filled the silence in our chest with bad jokes and brittle laughter.

For the rest of the day, I do not leave my bed. I stare at the plunging neckline of my investments and sink into despair. I am not built for this kind of business. I do not have the strength to manage loss. I vow never to get my money into any of these so called deflationary tokens whether locked liquidity or rejected ownership is a part of the deal or not but I know it is a lie. I will see another token soon. I will scrounge and scrape to find capital. 5$ is my cap. I will put it in and wait with hope. I am addicted now and this is the worst type. It involves money.