>be me
>go all in on $TRUMP
>lose 90% of my networth
>fullport remainder into SOL @ $270
>pray
I am not selling.
I want to be completely clear about something. I am not selling. Not today. Not when it drops another 30%. Not when my phone dies and I can not check the chart for 6 hours and I come back to a number that makes me want to lie on the floor. Not when my coworkers ask why I look tired. Not when my mom calls. Not ever.
I bought the top of a meme coin named after the president of the United States of America. Let that sentence sit for a second. I looked at a coin with a man's face on it, a man who was already president at the time, already in the White House, already doing president things, and I said yes. This is the one. I put real money into that. Money I worked for. Money that had a purpose before I gave it a different purpose. And I watched it leave. All of it. Slowly and then all at once like a bad relationship ending in a Wendy's parking lot.
And what did I do? I took what was left. The remainder. The small broken pile of SOL that survived the $TRUMP massacre. And I did not cash out. I did not "take profits." I did not "reassess my strategy." I held it. And then I bought more. At $270. Because I am a soylana manlet and this is what we do. We do not diversify. We do not consult a financial advisor named Greg. We do not have a Greg. We stare at the chart at 2am while eating cereal and we feel things deeply and we do not sell.
People say I have a problem. My brother called it "concerning." My coworker asked if I was okay because I laughed during a meeting at something that was not funny. I was looking at a green candle under the table. I was fine. I was more than fine. I was experiencing joy in its purest form.
Let me tell you about the soylana manlet. The soylana manlet was never going to make it the normal way. He was never going to have a 401k or a sensible index fund or a diversified portfolio or a financial planner. That was never his path. His path was this. Right here. All in. No hedge. No safety net. Just pure uncut conviction and absolutely zero chill. The soylana manlet has been laughed at. The soylana manlet has been called ngmi. The soylana manlet has been ngmi, multiple times, and he came back anyway because what else is he going to do, be normal? No. Never.
We have held through crashes that would break a lesser man. We have watched green turn to red and red turn to darker red and we have not moved. We have explained to people what a validator is and watched their eyes glaze over and we have kept talking anyway. We have lost sleep. We have lost girlfriends. We have lost track of what the price was when we bought in because we have bought in so many times at so many prices that the whole thing has become a kind of spiritual practice. We do not have an entry price. We have a lifestyle.
SOL is going to $1000. I do not have evidence for this. I have something better than evidence. I have nothing left to lose. And a man with nothing left to lose is the most committed holder who has ever lived. You cannot shake hands that have already been through the fire. My hands are not paper. They are not even diamond. They are whatever comes after diamond. They are the tectonic plates of the earth. They are geological.
I will be there when SOL hits $1000. I will be broke. I will be alone. I will probably be eating plain rice out of a bowl I found at a dollar store and I will be refreshing the chart on a phone with a cracked screen and I will see that number and I will have been right. And that will be worth everything. Every bad trade. Every rugpull. Every $TRUMP.
We are soylana manlets. We were not built for comfort. We were built for this.
I am hodling. Join me or don't. But I will be here.
manlets never die. the ftx collapse to $8 couldn't even shake us.
>go all in on $TRUMP
>lose 90% of my networth
>fullport remainder into SOL @ $270
>pray
I am not selling.
I want to be completely clear about something. I am not selling. Not today. Not when it drops another 30%. Not when my phone dies and I can not check the chart for 6 hours and I come back to a number that makes me want to lie on the floor. Not when my coworkers ask why I look tired. Not when my mom calls. Not ever.
I bought the top of a meme coin named after the president of the United States of America. Let that sentence sit for a second. I looked at a coin with a man's face on it, a man who was already president at the time, already in the White House, already doing president things, and I said yes. This is the one. I put real money into that. Money I worked for. Money that had a purpose before I gave it a different purpose. And I watched it leave. All of it. Slowly and then all at once like a bad relationship ending in a Wendy's parking lot.
And what did I do? I took what was left. The remainder. The small broken pile of SOL that survived the $TRUMP massacre. And I did not cash out. I did not "take profits." I did not "reassess my strategy." I held it. And then I bought more. At $270. Because I am a soylana manlet and this is what we do. We do not diversify. We do not consult a financial advisor named Greg. We do not have a Greg. We stare at the chart at 2am while eating cereal and we feel things deeply and we do not sell.
People say I have a problem. My brother called it "concerning." My coworker asked if I was okay because I laughed during a meeting at something that was not funny. I was looking at a green candle under the table. I was fine. I was more than fine. I was experiencing joy in its purest form.
Let me tell you about the soylana manlet. The soylana manlet was never going to make it the normal way. He was never going to have a 401k or a sensible index fund or a diversified portfolio or a financial planner. That was never his path. His path was this. Right here. All in. No hedge. No safety net. Just pure uncut conviction and absolutely zero chill. The soylana manlet has been laughed at. The soylana manlet has been called ngmi. The soylana manlet has been ngmi, multiple times, and he came back anyway because what else is he going to do, be normal? No. Never.
We have held through crashes that would break a lesser man. We have watched green turn to red and red turn to darker red and we have not moved. We have explained to people what a validator is and watched their eyes glaze over and we have kept talking anyway. We have lost sleep. We have lost girlfriends. We have lost track of what the price was when we bought in because we have bought in so many times at so many prices that the whole thing has become a kind of spiritual practice. We do not have an entry price. We have a lifestyle.
SOL is going to $1000. I do not have evidence for this. I have something better than evidence. I have nothing left to lose. And a man with nothing left to lose is the most committed holder who has ever lived. You cannot shake hands that have already been through the fire. My hands are not paper. They are not even diamond. They are whatever comes after diamond. They are the tectonic plates of the earth. They are geological.
I will be there when SOL hits $1000. I will be broke. I will be alone. I will probably be eating plain rice out of a bowl I found at a dollar store and I will be refreshing the chart on a phone with a cracked screen and I will see that number and I will have been right. And that will be worth everything. Every bad trade. Every rugpull. Every $TRUMP.
We are soylana manlets. We were not built for comfort. We were built for this.
I am hodling. Join me or don't. But I will be here.
manlets never die. the ftx collapse to $8 couldn't even shake us.
