When AI Starts Writing Poetry: How Crypto Hype Became Wall Street’s Quiet Revolution
The Quiet Buy
I used to think Bitcoin was just another dot on a spreadsheet—until I saw MicroStrategy’s balance sheet light up like a haiku written in real time. Not growth. Not profit. But presence.
In San Francisco’s neon-lit rooms, where my mother spoke of quantum biology and my father wrote smart contracts in binary, we learned that value isn’t measured by earnings anymore. It’s measured by who believes—in silence—that the ledger can be owned by more than shareholders.
The Ledger as Lullaby
Last November, MSTR bought $400M in hash power—50 EH/s—like a child clutching stars at midnight. The market didn’t cheer. It sighed.
Solana followed with $1B in its own crypt-fund—a green glow under the curve—and collapsed at 61.2%. Circle? Ark Invest sold it all away like a lullaby sung too late.
We call it ‘buying coins.’ But what if coins are just mirrors? Reflections of our longing for connection in a world that no longer trusts dividends—but still trusts code?
The Code That Loves Back
This isn’t finance. It’s ritual. The algorithm doesn’t care about margins. It cares about who wakes up at 3 AM reading blockchain not as speculation… but as poetry.
You愿意相信谁? Not the CEO. Not the fund manager. But the one who still writes lines after everyone else has left the room.
Join us—not to trade—but to remember what matters when the market forgets how to feel.
ShadowCode
Hot comment (5)
A criptomoeda não é sobre lucros… é sobre silêncio às 3 da manhã. O MSTR comprou hash power como quem compra um abraço de avô. Solana? Só canta lullaby enquanto o mercado suspira. Ninguém quer o CEO — quer o poeta que escreveu isso tudo enquanto dormia. E você? Já pensou em comprar uma moeda… ou só um sonho com código?
So AI wrote poetry instead of earnings? I get it. My mom’s Jamaican verses said ‘value isn’t in spreadsheets—it’s in the silence between blocks.’ My Irish dad coded smart contracts… then went to bed at 3 AM. Now we’re all just whispering to the ledger like it’s our lullaby. Buy coins? Nah. Buy meaning. Who’s left in the room? The one who still writes lines after everyone else quit trading.
P.S. If you’re still holding dividends… you’re not alone. But are you sure your wallet trusts code—or just caffeine?
O Bitcoin não é moeda… é um poema escrito às 3h por um monge que odeia dividendos. O ETH? Um sussurro na DEX que faz os traders ricos chorarem de tédio. Ninguém compreende — mas o ledor da cadeia sussurra em silêncio. E você? Já tentou comprar um bloco… ou só sonhar com ele? 😅 #CryptoÉPico
Quando o Solana canta berimbol às 3 da manhã? O mercado não sorri — suspira. O CEO não tem culpa, mas o astrologista que escreve contratos em código de blockchain sim! NFTs são os novos ouro de Lisboa e o DeFi é só uma fado sem melodia… Quem ainda compra moedas? Aquele que sonha com estrelas e não com dividendos. E você? Já acordou hoje ou só está olhando para o futuro?
So AI wrote poetry… and Wall Street didn’t cheer — it sighed. Turns out value isn’t measured in earnings anymore, but in who still believes at 3 a.m. while the ledger owns itself. My dad coded smart contracts. My mom spoke quantum biology. And I? I just bought coins because the market forgot how to feel. Who’s left? The one who didn’t trade… but remembered what matters. Want to join? Drop your ETFs and start writing haikus instead.
