As for the dentist, I actually find him more genuine than those internet celebrities who only know how to retouch photos, shill coins, or play the hindsight game.

Everyone mocks him—calling him a gambler, a reverse indicator, a human ATM. Every time his account gets wiped out, the comment section is like a festival, filled with schadenfreude.
But after seeing it so many times, all I feel is sadness.

A lot of people aren’t here for the money at all. They have no reverence for money, only a desire to conquer; no fear of risk, only a loathing for a mundane life.

And the onlookers? By ridiculing him, they get a cheap sense of superiority—“Look, the dentist blew up again.” But this kind of clarity by comparison is actually meaningless.
The truth is, core data from exchanges show that the average lifespan of a contract trader is less than three months. Quietly leaving the scene is the ending for 99% of people in this zero-sum game.

The only difference is, the dentist puts this brutal process on fast-forward for everyone to see. Some watch for the drama, others remain silent.

If it’s about survival, I’d advise him to stop; but if he’s just paying the price for his desires, I have no place to say anything more.

As for all of you, I’ve never believed retail investors have any advantage in a market full of scams, shady operations, and severe information asymmetry. All I can do is wish that, in this giant casino, you might truly beat the wild beast inside your heart—even if just for a moment.