When the Algorithm Dreamed of Me: How a London-Born Tech Soul Turned Crypto Failure into Capital Victory

When the Algorithm Dreamed of Me

I wrote this from my flat in North London, rain tapping the window as Bloomberg flashed another crypto rally. My father once said, ‘In Nigeria, we don’t chase wealth—we build meaning.’ That’s why I see Circle rising to $115 not as a ticker—but as a lullaby for the overlooked.

The Quiet Rebellion of Code

They call it ‘market mania.’ I call it grief turned into grace. When 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.

The 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.