The noon sun spilled across the ticker tapes—their digits shameless, almost poetic in their indecency. Bitcoin, in a habit more familiar to revolution than restraint, pressed on: lately staging one of those bold ballets between gravity and flight, not unlike a poet pacing while waiting for the next visitation from the muse (or the next cup of coffee). Prices danced atop rooftops, not merely breaking highs, but smashing through like Pasternak’s winter giving way, untamable and slightly smug.
At $110,000 and counting, the charts wear their bullishness openly. A phalanx of flags signals the rally’s many battles won; the old resistance lines have become nothing more than yesterday’s snow—stamped out under heavy boots. The price hovers now, just below that ice-crusted channel where $117,000 to $120,000 glimmer like Zhivago’s unreachable ice palace. Will Bitcoin climb? Of course—it yearns with the aching certainty of spring.
With a kind of synchronized poetic flair, even the lesser coins have caught the fever. The market’s mood is somewhere between “perhaps I’ll risk a dacha in Yalta” and “I’ve already pawned grandma’s samovar.” The Fear & Greed Index flickers indecisively near “Greed”—which in crypto is as close as anyone gets to confessing love. Meanwhile, institutions, seduced by spot ETFs, whisper their intentions behind velvet curtains. And there’s the whiff of American finance—rates cooling, inflation reclining lazily—encouraging Bitcoin with shy nods and winks.
But tell me: How high can our digital Doctor Zhivago aim his sleigh as we look ahead to 2025—will it be romance or heartbreak?
The latest candle flickers stubbornly, as if refusing the night. Bulls—those tragic romantics!—have dug in their heels, poised for another push. Now, the $112,917.33 barrier plays the villain, and who isn’t rooting for another act of melodrama? If price surges past, expect a rally that even Lara would find excessive. The supertrend? It’s bullish enough to write love poems on telegrams. RSI charts etch themselves in hopeful verses: higher highs, deeper lows, the eternal dialectic of progress.
So, our Bitcoin: still swept up by bullish winds, still whispering promises of ascension. Between inevitability and uncertainty, expect a brief pause—perhaps a collective sigh, the market’s own samovar whistling. But after the tea, after the snow thaws, expect the march onwards. The revolution—at least for now—continues. 🔥💸
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2025-07-10 16:14