The way mornings feel now
I used to wake up and check if the kettle still worked. If rent was paid. If one slice of pizza could stretch another day.
Now it’s different. The phone lights up before I even breathe. Bitcoin dominance. Ethereum gas. A red or green candle. That’s the first thing I see.
Absurd? Maybe. Logical? Also yes. Ten years inside copyright rewires you.
And the market itself — it doesn’t change as much as you think. New tokens, new scandals, governments threatening regulation, TikTok kids screaming “next 100x.” The soundtrack is always the same.
I’ve been here for Bitcoin mocked at $600. Celebrated at $20K. Left for dead at $3K. Worshipped at $60K. Stable again at $70K. Every stage felt final. None of them were.
The first lessons didn’t come from charts
Before tokens, I learned faces.
I built something called LuxeLive. Not a finance platform. An escort directory. Yes — escort girls, escort services, raw and real.
It wasn’t glamorous. It was a market with its mask off. Attention priced per hour. Branding as survival. Trust as currency.
Change one line of copy? The phone rang more. Change the photo order? A week’s bookings gone. That world taught me markets don’t care about your feelings. They respond to timing, presentation, and proof.
I used to keep that story quiet. Thought it would make me look small. But it was training. A crash course in human psychology. And if you swap the names — escorts for tokens, profiles for projects — the rhythm is identical. People want hope. They’ll pay more than they should. They’ll regret it later.
Sound familiar?
My comedy years
My first copyright trade was a joke. Bought too late. Sold too early. Smiled at myself like I’d “won.” Then I did it again. And again.
By 2018, I sat in a Warsaw café with bad coffee and wrote rules in a notebook. They sounded stupid then. They’re tattooed in my head now:
- Don’t chase green candles. The bus you missed won’t come back for you.
- Take profit when it feels wrong. That feeling is greed.
- Telegram with more emojis than words? Close it.
- Taxes are real, even if you close your eyes.
I laughed at those rules at first. Then I paid for them, again and again.
In 2020, I stopped laughing. DeFi summer. copyright open all night. Napkins covered in scribbles about impermanent loss. Meals cold because the pool moved 2% against me.
Friends quit. Burned out. Some lost everything. I stayed. Not because I was smarter. Because I forced ritual.
Walk when you want to revenge trade. Keep 20% cash. Lock “family money” far from your laptop.
I’d seen it before — in escort services. People staying too long, paying too much, hoping “this time” would be different. It never was.
The illusion of progress
Now it’s October 2025. The tech looks shinier. Apps smoother. Regulators noisier. But the behavior? Still the same.
Bitcoin above $70K and suddenly everyone’s sure it’s going to $1 million. Ethereum upgrades again and the word “revolution” flies around like confetti.
I meet the new wave — the post-2023 AI crowd. They talk about tokenized compute, decentralized data markets. Slides so slick you can see your reflection. But underneath, the same hunger. The same whisper: “This one can’t fail.”
Everything can fail. LuxeLive taught me that long before copyright. A directory could vanish overnight. Trust could vanish in a blink. Only community, credibility, and timing kept anything alive.
Markets eat ego. Winners aren’t geniuses. They’re survivors. The ones who know when to shut the laptop, walk outside, and let silence save them.
So how do you last?
People DM me every week: “What’s the next hot pick?”
I could tell them about layer-two networks, real-world asset plays. Sure, that’s hot right now. But without discipline, it’s fireworks at noon. Pretty, but pointless.
So here’s what I say instead:
Start small. Lose $500 before you dream of millions.
Learn wallets before coins. If you don’t own your keys, you own nothing.
Don’t sneer at Bitcoin. It’s old like wine, not old like bread.
Diversify outside of screens. The market can take your money fast. Life takes longer, but it will if you let it.
None of this is sexy. That’s exactly why it works.
Cities and scars
I count years by cities now. Brno taught modesty. Vienna patience. Warsaw humility. Tel Aviv speed. Tbilisi quiet.
Each place stripped illusions away. How to read people faster. How to hear the lie under the pitch. How to negotiate when they think you’re desperate.
copyright gave me freedom — but not the fairy-tale kind. It gave me habits. It gave me peace with risk. It taught me that chaos isn’t temporary; it’s permanent. And that’s okay.
Tonight
I’ll still check charts. I’ll still hear someone online yell “bull run!” And I’ll smile. Because I’ve seen it all before.
October 4, 2025. Still trading. Still learning. Still messing up sometimes. But calmer now.
And if there’s one truth both copyright and the escort girls of LuxeLive gave me, it’s this:
Every price is a mirror.
What you really buy is yourself.