People who play cards all have a habit they can't break: they place the chips they've won at the corner of the table, and when losing, they don't feel the pain, just pushing them away as if they never won. This habit follows people into the trading circle. Many, once they have floating profits, become bolder. Those who hesitate for a long time before placing the next order start opening positions casually when their account shows green, increasing their position size more and more, with just one reason: after all, it's money earned. The problem lies in these four words. Money earned is still money; there's no difference before or after pocketing it. The coins bought are exactly the same, and the numbers lost when losing are exactly the same. The market won't go easy just because this money was won. Those who chase $SOL new highs with floating profits feel confident when entering, thinking that losing won't hurt, and winning is a skill. When it's time to pay it back, most often they return even the principal without hesitation, still muttering about making it back next time. My approach is twofold. When floating profits accumulate thickly, I first pocket a portion, turning the profit into a non-movable part; then, for every new order, I weigh it with the perspective of principal. The standard is simple: if this order loses and the subsequent plan gets messed up, it means the bet was too big. Treat every amount of money as your own, including floating profits, and only then can you truly hold onto SOL. The day you start muttering "after all, it's earned," you're not far from sending it back. That's how the card table always takes people in.

When I was a kid copying homework, I understood one principle: no matter how closely you copy, the one who takes the exam is ultimately yourself. After entering this circle, I found that there are even more people copying homework than when I was a kid. Whatever the big brother shows off, everyone rushes to it; whatever the big brother shouts, everyone buys it; they even want the big brother to give them a stop-loss point. In the end, they don't even think about why they bought it themselves; if asked, it's because the big brother said so. Before copying, there are three accounts no one can calculate for you. The time account: when you see his ticket, the thickest profit segment is already in his hands, and you are lining up behind to take the next segment. The sample account: all the trades he shows are winners; he doesn't mention a single losing trade, and you make decisions based on a cut version of the record. The position account: he plays with small amounts, but you might be risking your entire fortune; at the same price, the pain felt by two people is completely different. To be fair, most big brothers don't mean to harm you; they just make decisions based on their own situation. They can afford to lose, but you might not. They won't notify you when they leave, and you might still be standing there waiting for their next signal. So I look at the shared orders, but only as clues. Whatever ticket he shows, I go check the logic he says; if it checks out, I put it into the candidate list; if not, I discard it. The excitement is his, but the judgment must be my own. No matter how many people share, you still have to go through the logic yourself. Whether it's $SOL or other tickets, the money is yours. After having others write your homework for so many years, this time, write it yourself.

Every day on the timeline there are stocks soaring sharply, the green is glaring, and when you look down at your own $SOL, it remains completely still, and everyone understands that little spark of frustration inside. First, let's state a fact: the gain rankings you see are an exhibition, a few top picks selected from hundreds of stocks on the same day. Those on the list are all survivors; those not on the list are the hundreds lying flat that same day. Comparing others' top performers to your own regular holdings only makes you feel worse. If you really want to switch, first calculate three costs: the friction cost of switching, the mindset reset to zero on the new stock, and the momentum your original stock had just as you left. These three combined are enough to wipe out the imagined gains from switching. Also, people who switch have a common problem: the stock they sold starts to rise, while the one they bought goes sideways. The market doesn't target anyone; most likely, you made the decision at the most tempting moment, and that temptation itself is the most expensive entry price. My only criterion is this: when someone else's stock rises, can you understand why it rose? If you understand, switching is a decision; if you don't, that wave of excitement has nothing to do with you. Let it rise on its own, and let your own SOL move at its own pace. Markets rotate. This round is for others; maybe next round will be yours, provided the stock is still in your hands. Look less at the gain rankings and more at the trend structure of your own stock. If the structure isn't broken, there's no reason to switch.

The memories left from the previous cycle are the worst advisors for this cycle. Those who remember the pain were trapped at a high point in the last cycle; whenever $SOL dips, they get nervous, don’t buy on the rise, and don’t act on the fall, constantly led by their own scars. Those who remember the thrill are the exact opposite; having gotten rich quickly last cycle, they always feel they should go all in when a big trend comes, frequently maxing out their positions. The most troublesome thing is that these two types of memories often coexist in one person—both fearful and greedy, unable to hold on when prices rise, afraid to buy when prices fall, ending the year with nothing but fees. Neither type is really paying attention to this cycle. Their eyes are fixed on the last cycle; the market is clearly new, but their mindset is stuck in the old script. The fact is, the last cycle’s trend doesn’t match this one at all—the shape of the fluctuations, the position of the chips, the participants, everything has changed, even the rhythm of the market is different. But memory doesn’t care about any of this; memory only pulls you back to that old scene, replaying it over and over. My method is to break down the memories and use them: write down why you got off mid-cycle last time, then focus on that reason this cycle to see if it still applies. If it does, follow the rules; if it doesn’t, don’t let an old replay make decisions for you. As for where $SOL goes next, it has to be based on the current market. Keep your scars as reminders, but don’t let them steer the wheel.

Many people's portfolio lists include an entry like, "$SOL will be sold at such and such a price." Once the target price is set, they feel at ease, as if they've installed a brake on this market move. The trap here lies in using current information to cap the future with a target price. When you set it, you don't know what will happen next. By the time the price actually reaches that level, you have far more information than when you set the target. If the market weakens, you'll want to wait a bit longer, thinking it might bounce back; if the market strengthens, you'll think this is just the beginning and move the target price higher. Moving it up is greed, waiting is wishful thinking—both directions invalidate the original target price. I've also noticed that people who set rigid target prices tend to act the quickest in distorted ways because their eyes are fixed on their numbers, making the market just a backdrop. So I don't set fixed numbers, only conditions. I don't write "sell at this price," but rather "start considering action when certain signals appear," such as volume acceleration or when people around you who don't usually touch crypto start asking. When these signals appear, then sit down and recalculate. During this rally, many people who set target prices for SOL at the beginning of the year have seen those prices pierced and then pierced again; the numbers have long ceased to matter. The market never stops at the price anyone sets. Replace "sell at this price" with "act when certain signals appear." The market will do its thing, and you follow the conditions—neither side is painful.

Here's a painful observation: the positions you should have held onto, you didn't, and the problem mostly lies in your position sizing, not so much your mindset. Position sizing determines the world you see. When a pullback happens, SOL falls into two types of people: those with light positions see it as an opportunity, those with heavy positions see it as the sky falling. Many blame their mid-way exit on their personality, thinking their willpower is weak, then turn to practice market intuition. That's the wrong direction. Asking someone to carry a heavy load over a long distance—if they can't keep going, they should unload half first; it has nothing to do with leg strength. So every time you want to add to your position, test yourself first: imagine your current position drops by half, ask yourself if you can still sleep at night. If yes, that position size is yours; if not, it means you're already overexposed and should reduce it before considering anything else. I do this test every time before making a move. Only after doing it repeatedly do I realize that in most cases, the burden you're carrying is what immobilizes you, not the market itself. SOL hasn't been moving smoothly lately. Those with appropriate position sizes focus on the rhythm, while those with heavy positions see only suffering. The same market, two very different experiences. My principle has never changed: first, secure the bottom with a position size that lets you sleep at night. When the market gives opportunities, add in batches. After adding, test again before bed; if you can't pass the test, stop. Adjust your position to a size that you can still sleep if it drops by half. Holding on then no longer depends on willpower.

There was a time when I was obsessively watching the intraday chart, checking every small fluctuation of $SOL. When it went up, I sat up straight; when it dropped, I wanted to take action. That period was when I performed the worst in trading. Later, I realized something: the intraday chart is like a magnifying glass that amplifies emotions. Sometimes when a needle drops, the green on the screen turns red, and your mind is filled with panic, but if you look at the daily chart, that needle isn’t even worth a splash. The more the market grinds you down, the more those who watch frequently tend to act impulsively. It feels like something is happening every second and you need to react every second. In reality, most fluctuations have little to do with you. The only thing you really need to watch is where SOL is heading and whether the structure is broken. My approach is simple: turn off the intraday chart, check it at most twice a day, and only look at the daily chart. If you look at the daily K-line, SOL is just slowly climbing step by step, very steadily. I’ve seen too many people who originally held well but insisted on constantly trading intraday for small profits, paying more in fees than they earned, thinning their core holdings, and missing out when the market actually moves. Watching frequently doesn’t mean you care more; most of the time, it just creates anxiety for yourself. If the structure really breaks, it’s clearest on the daily chart—you don’t need to seek reassurance from the intraday chart. Try turning off the intraday chart, and you’ll find there’s nothing that must be dealt with immediately.

Saw a screenshot where someone showed off $SOL finally breaking even Breaking even and leaving is a common psychological trap for those stuck in a position. When stuck, people swear every day that once they break even, they will leave immediately, not leaving a cent behind. But when that day really comes, before you click, it's best to think clearly about one thing: why were you stuck in the first place, and does the reason you entered the market still hold? Most people get stuck because they entered too late or had too heavy a position; misreading the market is secondary. These two issues tend to resolve themselves over time: the price drops to a better entry point, money slowly recovers, and the market cycles through a new group of participants. By the time you break even, the environment that caused you to get stuck is long gone. What you’re selling is actually an old debt, unrelated to the current round of SOL. My habit is to never look at the cost price. The cost price only relates to the past. Whether a position is worth holding depends on whether the current reasons still exist. Comparing SOL’s current cycle, the structure, heat, and capital are completely different from the previous peak. The break-even price is just your own mental knot. Whether the market has finished its move depends on the signals the market gives: volume, frenzied buying, screens full of people teaching others to buy coins. Only then is it not too late to leave. For now, take back your vow and don’t let an old position decide whether you stay or go.

This wave of $SOL is rising a bit slowly, moving a small step each day, just like clocking in for work. I checked this morning, it was green, but just a tiny bit green. Many people dislike the slow pace and grumble while switching to chase coins with explosive gains. I’m not switching. When it’s really time to sell, the market won’t look like this; there will be volume spikes, sharp rallies, screens full of profit-taking posts, and retail investors lining up to buy. This slow grind means chips are slowly changing hands, from those who can’t hold to those who can. No one is dumping large amounts downward, which is a good thing. A few years ago, I used to chase the sharp rallies, feeling pumped like I was on a rocket. But I always ended up standing on the peak, getting cut right before dawn. Later, I learned to be smarter and only go for these slow grinds. The rise is slow, but every bit of profit is kept. Grinding markets test patience more than vision. The candlestick charts look boring, but chips are changing hands daily, making the base stronger and stronger. Those eager to make quick money have mostly left; those remaining plan to hold for a while. Selling pressure is getting lighter, making the subsequent rise easier. For those itching to do T trading, a word of advice: in grinding markets, nine times out of ten, you’ll lose chips on the wrong trade, gaining a little but losing a big position. $SOL is currently in this kind of grinding phase. When the day comes with volume surges and big bullish candles, and screens are full of profit posts, then it’s not too late to talk about selling. For now, holding is better than anything else.

$SOL has risen this much already, is it at the top? I'm not worried at all. I glanced at the Fear and Greed Index, and it's just a bit over 70. During the last real frenzy, this index stayed above 80 for more than a month, with people shouting 'top' every day, but it kept rising until no one dared to speak. At this stage, frankly: the price is running fast, but the sentiment is still catching up. Most people's positions are still the bottom positions scared out in the fear zone; they don't dare to add when it rises and run at the slightest pullback. This kind of structure simply can't fail to go far; if it really couldn't, I would have cleared my positions and rested long ago. From my years of trading experience, the most valuable lesson is: during a rise without heated sentiment, pullbacks are buying opportunities. When the index hits 80 and everyone's flaunting profits, the real show is just beginning. Holding SOL firmly and getting off when sentiment is just climbing is the most losing move.