Bitcoin: Doom or Just a Nap? 😴

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Ah, December. The month of forced cheer and, apparently, Bitcoin’s existential crises. It’s winding down like a particularly tiresome opera singer, and let me assure you, this has precisely nothing to do with the endless pronouncements emanating from that echo chamber formerly known as Twitter (or, as I prefer, “X” – a letter signifying… what, exactly? The unknown? The void?). It’s merely the daily candle, you see. That little flickering testament to hopes, dreams, and the utterly inexplicable human need to gamble with digital nothings. As observed on that mystical portal, TradingView.

Currently, Bitcoin is languishing below the Bollinger Bands mid-line. Around $90,500, if you insist on such precise measurements of folly. A detail, you might say? Ha! A detail is a misplaced comma. This, my friends, is a subtle shift in the cosmos. A quiet whimpering before the storm… or perhaps just a long nap. 🤷‍♀️

As long as those daily ends remain stubbornly below the line, the beast is drawn – inexorably, mathematically – towards the lower band. Currently residing at $87,250. That’s a nearly 3% descent into the abyss, a trifling sum for some, a small fortune for others, and a source of endless amusement for me.

The context is… delicate, shall we say? This Bitcoin, it sprinted upwards with the grace of a startled moose, carelessly skipping over proper foundations. That $90,000-$100,000 zone? Merely brushed aside. Now, when the price loses its footing – its daily mid-band footing, to be precise – those skipped levels… well, they vanish. They become air. Thin, unsupportive air. Like a politician’s promise.

Do Not Be Lulled By The Stillness!

And the worst part? The unsettling calm. It’s all so…peaceful. A deceptive tranquility. Don’t be fooled. This is the eye of the storm, the brief moment of silence before the financial hurricane. Give it time, and Bitcoin will likely tumble another 3%, just to test the fortitude of its devotees. A little shock therapy, if you will. 😈

Now, before you rush off to sell your grandmother’s jewels, let me clarify: this isn’t necessarily a prelude to catastrophe. Merely a suggestion – a cold, hard mathematical suggestion – that buying now is somewhat akin to volunteering as a target at a shooting range. Until the daily candle remembers its manners and climbs back above the mid-band, this is the script, the predetermined fate. Stripped of optimism, of hope, of any pretense of sanity. Just the numbers, my friends. Just the numbers.

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2025-12-14 16:45