My Binance life is a K-line that has been infinitely elongated, filled with heartbeats and sighs.
When I first entered the market, all I saw were legends of getting rich quickly. Late at night, I stared at the screen, and those flickering green numbers were the most enchanting scenery in the world. One night, my account had unrealized gains enough for several months' salary, and I naively thought I was the chosen one. At that time, it was sweet to the point of being cloying.
Spicy followed closely. Driven by FOMO (fear of missing out), chasing prices up and down, my heart raced in sync with the market after opening leverage positions. The unwillingness to be washed out by violent fluctuations turned into a burning sensation in my throat, urging me to take risks again.
Bitterness is a required course. The black swan flies by, and the contract instantly blows up. Watching the account shrink, a familiar bitterness rises in my stomach. Countless late nights, repeatedly reviewing my own foolishness, that feeling is thicker than the American coffee from staying up late.
The most painful part is the sourness. I discovered the potential currency early on, but due to a 'smart' swing trade, I perfectly missed the main uptrend. Watching it soar, that kind of sourness spreads from the tip of my tongue to the depths of my heart—not a heart-wrenching pain, but a lingering regret.
Looking back now, Binance taught me far more than just trading. It acted like a harsh mentor, using real money to help me recognize myself—greed, fear, weakness, and also forged patience, discipline, and calmness.
Having tasted sweet, spicy, bitter, and sour, I finally understand: the real harvest is not the account balance, but in learning to coexist with fluctuations and befriend uncertainty after countless beatings. This Binance life has allowed me to find my own rhythm amid the ebb and flow of numbers.
This is my Binance life—it doesn't promise financial freedom, but it truly allows me to touch the contours of my soul in every thrilling moment.
