After a few years in this space, I’ve realized that surviving is way more important than getting rich overnight.

This isn’t alarmist talk—I’ve seen too many people with account numbers so beautiful they look like artwork, only to end up not even keeping their principal.

Now I have this weird habit: when the market isn’t clear enough, I’d rather kill time watching short videos than even touch the trading interface. Why? Because trading is like fishing—if the fish aren’t biting, what’s the point of yanking your rod for nothing?

When it comes to watching the charts, I have my own rhythm.

Daytime volatility? Nine times out of ten it’s just a smokescreen. The market makers are pulling back and forth, throwing in a quick spike to scare retail traders, drawing a wick to lure you in. The real direction usually doesn’t show up until after 9 p.m., when Europe and the US wake up, real money starts moving, and the trend finally reveals itself.

When it comes to making money, I’m downright basic.

As soon as my account is up, I always withdraw a portion of the profits—if I make 1,000 USDT, I’ll take out at least 300 USDT and send it to my bank account. You might think this is stupid, but let me tell you: only the money that leaves the exchange is actually yours.

I’ve seen people whose account balances could buy a car, but after one pullback, they give it all back and end up riding a shared bike home. Unrealized profit isn’t money—withdrawals are.

I don’t mess with complicated technical analysis.

Before every trade I only look at three things: is there enough momentum, is the entry point right, and is there still room for the move. If it doesn’t fit, I close the page—there are opportunities every day, but you only have one life. I’ve set up a few indicator combos on my phone—not to look professional, but just to make myself pause and think before acting on impulse.

I’m even tougher when it comes to stop-losses.

If I’m at my computer, I use trailing stops—if the price goes up, I move my stop-loss up, locking in as much profit as I can. If I have to go out? Then I set a hard stop-loss, giving the market a little room to move, but never giving myself an excuse to hope for luck.

And there’s one rule I never break: every Friday at 3 p.m., no matter how much I made that week, I always transfer a portion of the profit to my real-world account.

This is my “mental settlement” with the market—no matter how fancy the numbers in your account look, you have to make yourself feel the reality of actual cash. A lot of people think they’ve made money, but all that’s really changed is the dance of digits on their screen.

There’s a knack to reading charts, too.

Staring at the 1-hour candlestick chart is like binge-watching a drama—you get hyped one minute and anxious the next. But if you want to play it steady, you have to learn to switch to the 4-hour or even daily chart to find the big picture. When the market stalls, don’t force it—stretch out the time frame. It’s like pulling two people apart in a fight—things become clear once you calm down.

Finally, here are a few hard-earned lessons I paid for with real money.

High leverage? Don’t touch it. It’s not a tool to boost your returns, it’s a meat grinder designed by market makers. Shitcoins? Not even stray dogs want them. Making a dozen trades a day? That’s not trading, that’s a gambling addiction.

When it comes down to it, the more desperate you are to seize every opportunity, the more likely you are to get liquidated. The ones who can stay calm are the ones whose wallets get fatter.

If you actually made it to the end of this, it means you already have more patience than most. In the crypto world, patience itself is a rare commodity.