August the nineteenth, in the year 2025 of our digital era, bitcoin, that restless spirit of modern Mammon, rests at one-hundred-and-fifteen-thousand-four-hundred-ninety-seven dollars and a handful of kopecks-no more, no less. Its empire, measured in trillions, stands at a proud but wobbly two-point-three; its foot traffic in but a single day is thirty-seven-point-forty-seven billions; yet even this grandeur feels curiously cramped, like a general who must parade in a parlour rather than on a battlefield. 😏
Bitcoin
The daily candle-an ominous black cloud shaped like an ogre’s grin-rejected the giddy heights of $124,517 as though the very heavens cried “too far, too fast, dear fool!” and flung the coin earthward in a single engulfing stroke. Down it tumbled, past polite society, past even the humblest peasant’s hope, fetching up at $111,919 where it lay gasping like a landed fish. The chart, poor creature, now resembles nothing so much as an old count’s waistcoat after Lent-slack, faded, and suspiciously empty. Every spike of volume at the summit was merely the orchestra striking up a waltz while the rats fled the ballroom with the silver. 🐀🎻
Drop to the four-hour frame and one spies a triangle-strictly speaking, an elongated bear-flag, the sort of banner a retreating army might wave if it had already misplaced both pride and provisions. From the $124,517 peak the price cascaded like a drunken courier, landing near $114,442. Each feeble lunge toward $117,500 meets resistance as if an invisible aunt stands at the gate wagging an accusing umbrella. Should the coin fail this final etiquette lesson (and volume remains the bored chaperone looking the other way) we may yet witness an encore tumble toward $112,000 or, heaven forfend, the triple-digit parlour at $108,000-where the tea has grown cold and the cake is only crumbs. 🍰❄️
The hourglass view reveals a miniature tragedy-in-the-round: a creeping climb from $114,442, higher lows drawn like hesitant footprints in wet sand. Yet, observe the thinning green candles-each shorter than the last, their wicks drooping like mustaches after a duel. A decisive push past $116,000 might squeeze a few shorts into squealing retreat, gifting the scalpers a frolic toward $117,000-$117,500. Alas, should the beast trip beneath $114,500 the whole troupe of bulls will be trampled to marmalade; momentum shall seize the baton and march southward in grim formation. 🏃♂️💨
Oscillators murmur in the pantry like servants unsure whose side to take. The RSI at forty-six scratches its head; Stochastic at thirty stares moodily at half-eaten borscht; CCI, ADX, and friends shuffle their feet in a neutral conga. Meanwhile, the Awesome Oscillator (-279), Momentum (-980), and the MACD (still puffing on a meerschaum pipe labelled 413) shout in unison: “The mood is bearish, and the mood is grumpy!” Their collective gloom hangs over the estate like wet washing in November. 🧦☁️
Turn to the moving averages-a quarrelsome family dinner. The 10- and 20-day maidservants whisper bearish gossip behind their aprons, while uncle 50-day clears his throat in bullish nostalgia. Grand-père 200-day EMA (a dignified $103,098) and Great-aunt SMA ($100,416) sit at the head of the table, clattering silverware and insisting “all will be well, children,” though even they glance nervously at the cracked ceiling. Thus the house stands split: the short-term nerves, the long-term spine. One mis-step on the parquet could send the soup tureen flying. 🥣💥
A Note for the Bulls (with apologies to the bulls)
To win this particular war, bulls must storm the drawing-room, plant flag and footstool firmly above $118,000, and roar loudly enough to frighten the curtains. Should they manage this spectacle-with volume as their brass band-the path to $120,000 and beyond swings open like a gate at a summer palace. Until then, dear bullish comrades, tread lightly; your optimism is presently no sturdier than a paper umbrella in a hailstorm. 🐂☂️
A Note for the Bears (with a respectful nod)
For the ursine faction, the estate gates already creak invitingly. Should price slip beneath $114,500 once more, the bears need only give a polite shove to send the furniture sliding toward $112,000 and, if spirits remain sufficiently grim, onward to $108,000-a region so sparsely furnished that even echoes travel economy class. Short of a miracle candle shaped like a shepherd, the current trend prefers fur over fleece. 🐻🍯
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2025-08-19 16:39