I parted with another ten percent of my WULF position today.
For anyone who has not been following along, WULF is a bitcoin miner I bought when it felt vomitingly stupid to buy it, sitting at about a dollar, and have watched climb, with my hand mostly off the sell button, all the way to twenty-eight. It has been a ride.
This particular sale was not a grand strategic move. It was not the liquidity cycle whispering to me. It was the rather less glamorous fact that my client is late paying an invoice, and I found myself a little nervous about funding my upcoming vocal surgery, which has to be paid for, in full, very soon, and does not care in the slightest whether a university finance department is having a contemplative month.
So I took a slice off the table. Margin of safety. Surgery funded, nerves settled.
And then, sitting there having done it, the full ridiculousness of my own life landed on me.
My MicroStrategy trades paid for my face, my arse, my tits, and my vagina.
And now WULF has paid for my voice.
I am, quite literally, a WULF in sheep’s clothing.
There is a serious point buried in here, and then I will get out of your way. Most of my writing in this section is about long-term conviction, about holding a position through the nausea, about not selling the thing you believe in just because the price got uncomfortable. All of that still stands. But the other half of the discipline, the unglamorous half, is this: sometimes you take the trade because you need to take the trade. A dated, must-happen, real-world obligation does not negotiate with a chart. When the money has a job to do and the job has a deadline, you ring-fence the money and you let the rest run. The winner you held for two years can spare a slice to make sure the thing that actually matters is paid for.
I held WULF unleveraged the whole way precisely so that a moment like this would be a calm decision and not a crisis. That is the entire point of not using leverage. It means that when life sends you an invoice, you get to choose when to sell, rather than having the choice made for you at the worst possible moment.
Anyway. The conviction made the gains. Life decided where they went.
Face, arse, tits, vagina, voice.
Worth every cent.