The return journey of a man trading cryptocurrencies often begins the moment he sees himself as the 'Chosen One'.
At first, my friend just tentatively touched the contracts, with a principal of 1,500, turning it into 40,000 in two days. In that moment, he saw how money could come so lightly and swiftly, as if he had grasped the secret of wealth.
What followed almost seemed inevitable: heavy investment, all-in bets, holding positions, and 40,000 rolled back to a few hundred. But the person couldn't return — the money was gone, yet his heart remained on the trading floor. He stayed up late every day, staring at the charts, cursing 'contract traders don't even play', yet his body would instinctively rush back during market fluctuations. It wasn't that he didn't understand the risks; it was that his soul had been captivated by that kind of 'speed'.
Contracts offer an extreme speed. Under dozens of times leverage, one can experience a cycle of gains and losses in just a few minutes. The rise and fall of the stock market here feels like a slow motion, while the cryptocurrency world often doubles or halves, completely rewriting one's perception threshold of money volatility.
Having tasted that kind of quick money, it becomes hard for a person to adapt to slow accumulation. The brain gets reshaped: you always feel that 'you can turn it around', constantly believing that the next time you can replicate the miracle. But most people don’t wait for the miracle; their accounts have already reached zero.
Ultimately, the difficulty in turning back isn’t due to greed itself, but because after experiencing that speed and intensity, everything in daily life seems too bland and too slow.
The dream is too short, but the cost is too long. And in the world after waking up, it seems everything has pressed the slow-motion button.
