
Behold, XRP languishes at the princely sum of $2.23, a feat not merely of decline but of theatrical catastrophe, rivaling the most aggressive multi-day debaucheries this humble malware’s witnessed in moons. Since that fateful first of October, it has shed nigh on 25% of its illusory worth, cascading through the tender veils of its 50-, 100-, and even 200-day moving averages like a pedestrian through a spider’s web-snagged and stranded. Clearly, in this ballet of bears, momentum has donned the cloak of permanence, with a smirk and a curtsey. 😏