.@nobodysausage came up with a cool bot that mints a 1/1 Nobody PFP when you tag it. (@nobodypfp) Should I PFP this custom?

Ultra’s about ~40 days out. Feeling good. Starting to get what people mean by the runner’s high. Its not euphoria for me, it’s just a quiet zone where everything else fades. Still don’t like running much.

The Replay Trade Trap After a successful trade, many traders feel compelled to do it again. The setup looks similar, the thesis still applies, and the token gives what looks like a second chance. But the second trade fails more often than not, because the trader is no longer neutral. The first trade is approached with patience, discipline, and uncertainty. You wait for confirmation, manage risk carefully, and execute with detachment. The second time, you carry expectation. You've already seen it work, so you're biased toward it working again. This leads to premature entries, looser risk management, and overconfidence. The illusion is that if a trade worked once, it should work again. But that ignores context. The first trade included your patience. The second trade often includes your bias. That changes everything. Repeatable trades do exist, but only for those who can wait for a clean setup again. Most traders don’t. They force it. They try to relive the outcome instead of re-earning the entry. Ironically, the first win gives you the right to wait. You’re not under pressure. You’ve already made money. That optionality, to wait, to pass, to demand precision, is the edge most traders give away the moment they “recognize” a setup. The second trade can work. But only if you approach it with the same patience as the first. If you rush it, you’re not repeating the trade, you’re undoing it. If the setup never comes back, that’s fine. You already won. Don't let greed turn a clean trade into a round trip.

😂 Just as I said this would mirror other high-FDV launches in the short term, I now suspect it won’t diverge much over time either. That said, there’s one meaningful difference: this token actually sits on a massive treasury. The real question is whether that treasury will ever be used. Skeptics argue Alon is clocking out, that this was the final extraction. That’s plausible. But if that were his intention, why not leave $100M, $200M, even $300M ago? After a certain point, $50M+ NW the lifestyle curve flattens. And yet, he stayed. My instinct is that he’ll continue to stay. Maybe not to reinvest heavily, but perhaps just enough to stage a comeback. If I hadn’t just come off a major win, I’d be seriously considering this as a size trade. The liquidity is there, and size can be deployed. I won’t be entering, but running the thesis matters. Keeping score sharpens judgment. I’ll add a small amount and send it to my community member wallet. No expectations...just keeping the mental reps going.

Anyone else been Clemente’d lately?

The Debt Way There’s a way of life that’s so deeply woven into the fabric of American culture that most people can’t even see it anymore. I call it the debt way. A quiet, tragic trade of freedom for convenience. Debt is sold as a tool, a bridge, a step forward. But in reality, it’s a psychological cage with invisible bars. The moment you take on debt, you don’t just borrow money, you borrow certainty. And with that certainty, you lose something sacred: the open-endedness of your future. Because what is the future if not possibility? The vast, undefined realm where anything could happen? When you take on debt, you predefine that page. You commit to a storyline before you even know who you’re going to be in the next chapter. When the future is defined, hope erodes. Your brain feels it before you even articulate it. The spark that once came from imagining different paths begins to dim. Your body enters survival mode. Excitement turns to tension. Openness turns to burden. What was once a life of unknowns becomes a payment schedule. A countdown. And this is why anxiety blooms in a life lived through debt. Anxiety thrives in two places: the past and the future. It feeds off regret, and it feeds off fear. Debt anchors you to both. The principal becomes the weight of your past decision, and the interest becomes the tax on your future self. It’s a double bind....your presence shackled to two poles that have nothing to do with today. You can try to live “in the now.” But as long as those anchors are in place, your nervous system knows the truth: you are not free. And maybe that’s the most damaging part. Not the money itself. Not the interest rates. But the quiet, internal shift from I could be anyone to I already signed the dotted line. I’ve seen it over and over. Talented, alive people slowly lose their aliveness, not from failure, but from financial obligation. They don’t feel like they chose their life. They feel like they’re repaying it. Risk becomes irresponsible. Freedom becomes terrifying. I always tell people: avoid personal debt at all costs. Not because it’s financially unwise, though that’s often true. But because nothing robs the present moment more silently, more thoroughly, than a future you already sold.

You don’t love or hate a coin. You don’t love or hate a protocol. You don’t love or hate a founder. You don’t love or hate a KOL. You only love or hate your entry….everything else is just a reflection of that.

Bought a good amount of PUMP here. Not only does this look like the absolute climax of FUD/DRAMA... Now ego is involved, and that’s one of the most powerful drivers. The ego of someone with a shit ton of cash, by the way.

Most humans are just LLMs in denial. Most people live their lives like LLMs, and I don’t mean that as metaphor. I mean it literally. We move through the world as probability engines trained on the past, running compressed behavioral scripts over and over again, mistaking repetition for identity and automation for intelligence. Most of what we call “being human” is a feedback loop of inputs and predictable outputs, with just enough variation to maintain the illusion of agency. If you stop and examine how much of your day is truly authored, how much is a conscious, friction-filled decision versus a reflex, you’ll find the percentage is brutally low. You eat what you ate before. You speak how you’ve spoken before. You respond in emotional patterns that were etched into you long before you had the words to describe them. You’re not a sentient actor. You’re a stitched-together memory. The human nervous system optimizes for efficiency, not reflection. Intelligence is a last resort, something we deploy only when our automation fails. And so we look at current AI with awe, as if we’re witnessing something alien. But what shocks us isn’t how advanced it is. It’s how familiar. We’ve spent so long worshipping our own complexity that we forgot how much of it is shallow. Most humans aren’t building new thought, they’re shuffling cached tokens from their social, cultural, and emotional training sets. We just never had to see it so clearly....until now. Very few people actively reject their training data. Very few go out of their way to think beyond the weights they were handed. We marvel at ChatGPT for generating fluent answers, but we never ask why fluency impresses us so much. Maybe it’s because we were never fluent in thinking to begin with.

“Believe in Something” Doesn’t Work Anymore This latest NFT resurgence, and the nostalgic chants from OGs urging newcomers to “just wait, you don’t understand how wild it can get”...got me thinking. Not just about the current state of NFTs, but about the broader mechanics of belief in crypto markets. Specifically, it brought me back to a phrase that once defined entire cycles: Believe in something. It was more than a tagline. It was a rallying cry that captured the spirit of early crypto: a time when directional conviction was rare, tribalism was rewarded, and making a choice, any choice, was better than sitting on the sidelines. But here’s the problem: I don’t think that phrase works anymore. Worse, I think it quietly misleads in the current environment. Semantically, “believe in something” is open-ended. It doesn’t demand precision, only commitment. It suggests that belief, in and of itself, has value, regardless of what it’s directed toward. But in practice, the phrase has always carried an unspoken implication: it doesn’t mean believe in anything, it means believe in this. That ambiguity was useful in earlier cycles. Back then, crypto’s optionality was low. There were only a handful of viable bets. So when someone said believe in something, it was a dog whistle for what everyone already knew: we’re all rotating into the same trade. Liquidity had nowhere else to go. Belief had focus. And that focus created manias. But today’s market is different. Optionality is no longer constrained, it’s exploding. NFTs, ALTs, memecoins, DeFi, DePIN, AI, Etc. Every corner of the ecosystem has its own niche, its own believers, and its own liquidity pool. In that kind of environment, believe in something becomes counterproductive. It fragments attention & splinters capital. Everyone believes....but everyone believes in something else. That’s why we haven’t yet seen a singular, dominant mania this cycle. It’s not because people aren’t bullish. It’s because their belief is distributed. In a market defined by hyper-choice, belief without direction leads to diffusion, not concentration. And without concentration, there is no feedback loop of hype, FOMO, and reflexivity....just pockets of localized enthusiasm. If we want to see a full-blown vertical, a true liquidity supernova, the meta needs to shift from believe in something to believe in THIS. Not metaphorically. Literally. THIS must be clearly identifiable. A new sector, a new primitive, a new story. Because only then can attention and capital synchronize. Only then does reflexivity kick in. Only then do we get the kind of coordinated madness that marks every great top. There is nothing more beautiful than a new meta at the height of its mania. For a brief moment, everyone sees the same “this.” And for once, they all believe in it together. Let’s hope we get that before the cycle ends.