The Voice in Your Head at 3:47 AM

August 7, 2025

Bitcoin at $114K. Again. Ethereum bleeding at $3,678. The charts are lying. They have to be lying.

You know what's driving me absolutely insane? This fake stability. This manufactured calm while the world burns in slow motion. Bitcoin dropped 3% to $113,231 yesterday, triggering "a wave of long liquidations" and everyone's acting like this is just another Tuesday.

Click refresh. Check the portfolio. Refresh again.

The voice won't shut up. It's been three days since the last proper sleep and my brain is making connections that probably aren't there but feel too real to ignore. Trump's tariff threats sent crypto tumbling while traditional markets barely flinched. Ether fell 6%, Solana down 5%, and somewhere in Manhattan, Jerome Powell is probably having his morning coffee wondering why nobody listens to him anymore.

The Fed held rates. Of course they held rates. They always hold rates when you need them to move.

Here's what the algorithms don't understand: desperation has a smell. It seeps through fiber optic cables and shows up in the order books. When Bitcoin touched $123,231 in July before pulling back, that wasn't profit-taking. That was fear. Fear that maybe, just maybe, this rally was real and they'd missed it.

Seven screens. Fourteen windows. Forty-three tabs open. The digital foxhole of modern anxiety.

The European Central Bank keeps insisting "the disinflation process is well on track," which is central banker speak for "we have absolutely no idea what we're doing but we're committed to the bit." Meanwhile, every teenager with a Robinhood account is calling Bitcoin's next move while seasoned traders are paralyzed by the sheer weight of what this all means.

$114K Bitcoin. When did that become normal? When did any of this become normal?

You want to know what keeps me up? It's not the volatility. Volatility is honest. It's the spaces between the moves. The dead air where algorithms pretend to be human and humans pretend to be algorithms. Bitcoin "solidly above $118k" according to the cheerleaders, but I can feel the tremor beneath the surface. The smart money is hedging everything while talking a big game.

Check the futures. Check the options. Check the crypto fear and greed index. Check if checking is even helpful anymore.

The worst part? We all know this ends badly. Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. Every bubble does. Every rally becomes a memory. Every "this time is different" becomes "of course it wasn't." But here we are, addicted to the dopamine hit of green candles and the masochistic thrill of red ones.

Ethereum at $3,678. Down from what? Up from when? The numbers lose meaning after 3 AM.

They say markets are efficient. They say prices reflect all available information. They don't mention that sometimes all available information is garbage, and sometimes efficiency looks exactly like madness, and sometimes the most rational response to an irrational world is to embrace the irrationality and see where it takes you.

Portfolio up 2.3% today. Down 0.8% for the week. Up 47% for the year. Math that used to matter.

The voice in your head knows the truth: we're all just gambling with prettier charts now. Every analysis, every prediction, every carefully hedged position is just a way to feel like we have control in a system that stopped making sense sometime around 2020 and decided to double down on absurdity instead of returning to reality.

Bitcoin. $114K. The number that broke my brain and probably yours too.

Close the laptop. Try to sleep. The markets will be there tomorrow, unchanged and completely different, just like always.

But first, one more refresh...