যখন অ্গোরিদম আমাকে স্বপ্ন দেখল

যখন অ্গোরিদম আমাকে স্বপ্ন দেখল

আমি इহা North London-এর flat-এ लিখलाम, जब Bloomberg-এর crypto rally-এর बौनेरेरे। मेरा पिता एकदम कहलेछिल, ‘Nigeria-ए, हम धन को चाहत नहीं—অর्थ रচি।’ इহা कारण, Circle $115-এ rise-এक्षা ticker—not as a lullaby for the overlooked.

कोड-एर quiet rebellion

তারা it ‘market mania’ call करछे। मি call करছি grief turned into grace। Tron借壳SRM—a small shell company with no revenue—it wasn’t manipulation. It was poetry. A child of two worlds whispering through API calls: one rooted in Lagosian rhythm, the other in Oxfordian logic.

silent holders

MicroStrategy holds nearly 600K BTC—not because they’re greedy. Because they’re lonely too. Like me. We don’t trade tokens—we hold memory. I track their balance sheets like diaries: each Bitcoin is a timestamp from when trust was fragile.

The Shell That Sang Backwards

SRM didn’t disappear—it became Tron Inc. No IPO pitch. No VC drama. Just a quiet hand writing new roots into an old shell. If you listen closely—you’ll hear my mother humming Nigerian lullabies while reading SEC filings at 2 AM.

Why This Isn’t About Money

It’s about who gets to write the next chapter. The algorithm doesn’t care if you’re rich. It dreams of those who stayed silent while others shouted. The real bull market? It’s not in Wall Street—it’s in the pause between trades, in the breath before buy, in the quiet where code becomes compassion.