The First Crypto Journal
Andi stared at the empty PDF on the borrowed laptop.
There were five columns:
Token Name
Total Supply
Daily Volume
Example Use Case
Personal Notes
The CryptoGhost assignment looked simple on the surface, but to Andi, it felt more like a final exam—even though he had just joined the group.
"I can fill all of this out... but am I doing it right?"
He took a deep breath and got to work.
He picked the token called $LOOP.
He had found it while scrolling through CoinGecko, hunting for something low-key but with a stable daily trading volume.
Andi checked out the details page. It says:
Total Supply: One billion.
Circulating Supply: It's 740,000,000.
The 24-hour volume was $1.2 million.
Market Cap: $4.5M
The price is $0.0061.
"Okay, so it's pretty liquid. But what are these tokens good for?"
He scrolled down. Here's what it says:
"LOOP is a decentralized data pipeline for streaming applications. It's designed for real-time microtransactions across IoT devices."
Andi froze, frowning a little. Then he mumbled,
"IoT... microtransactions... wait, what does that even mean again?"
He opened a new tab and typed: "What's the deal with IoT crypto?"
At the top of the search results was a Medium article. He clicked the link and started reading slowly.
"IoT = Internet of Things. Crypto for IoT means devices can send money to each other without people involved. Like a fridge that pays its own electric bill."
Andi's eyes widened.
"This is insane. Feels like science fiction. But... do people even get this?"
He flipped back to the assignment and typed under the last column:
Personal Comment:
"$LOOP looks promising in terms of use cases, especially for where IoT is heading. But I'm not sure people are ready for this yet. The tech feels too far ahead for everyday users."
After typing that out, he stopped for a moment.
His heart was pounding a little. His hands were slightly shaky.
But more than that, there was this strange, unexpected feeling bubbling up.
"I... actually enjoy doing this."
It was already 11:41 PM.
Andi sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. His fingers hovered for a moment, then finally clicked "Send." The PDF flew off to CryptoGhost, the anonymous mentor who'd somehow decided to give him a shot.
He exhaled, thinking that was it for the night. But barely two minutes later, his phone buzzed.
CryptoGhost:
Is this your first time writing an analysis?
Andi stared at the message. His heart skipped a beat. He didn't know if that was a compliment, a warning, or just a casual question. But he decided to answer honestly.
Yeah, bro. This is the first time I actually feel like I understand what I'm writing.
He tapped send, then waited. A moment passed. Another buzz.
CryptoGhost:
Your analysis is pretty solid.
Good choice for beginners.
But here's the thing—
the deeper you go, the more responsibility you take on.
Tomorrow, I want you to find a token you think is bad.
Tell me why.
Andi blinked at the screen.
Wait... what?
He muttered to himself, "A bad one? Aren't we usually told to look for the good ones?"
For as long as he could remember, every school assignment, every competition, every tutorial online—it was always about highlighting the positives. Pick a great project. Write about what makes it valuable. Show how it helps people.
But now, someone was asking him to go in the opposite direction.
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, letting the idea sink in.
Maybe that's what real understanding looked like. It wasn't just knowing what to trust—it was recognizing what not to. Being able to smell hype, spot red flags, and understand what separates a strong project from a shaky one.
He looked back down at his laptop. The PDF he sent was still open. The words he'd written about $LOOP, the notes, the cautious optimism... it all felt different now. Like it was only half the story.
He suddenly realized something else:
He wasn't tired. Not really.
His body was buzzing, his brain still running like a motor. There was something thrilling about all this—the digging, the researching, the second-guessing, the writing.
He wasn't just learning crypto.
He was learning how to think.
Andi's Notes – Day 15:
"Learning to analyze is like walking down a dark road with a flashlight.
The brighter your light, the more you notice—especially the stuff that can trip you up."
He scribbled that thought down on the back of an old receipt during his break.
Now, back in the restaurant kitchen, Andi stood at the prep counter, chopping tomatoes. His hands moved on autopilot, but his mind was elsewhere—still stuck on CryptoGhost's assignment from the night before.
"Find a bad token."
He repeated the words in his head for the tenth time today.
But how was he supposed to know if something was really bad?
For most people, a "bad" token just meant the price was down. It was simple: red candles = avoid.
But Andi had been watching videos from AltcoinMentor, and he knew better than that now.
Just because a token crashes doesn't mean it's trash.
Sometimes the whole market panics.
Sometimes it's temporary FUD—Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt.
Sometimes people just follow trends without thinking.
So no, a price drop wasn't enough.
"I need something that shows the full picture," he muttered under his breath, slicing through another tomato. "Not just what the chart says. I need to know why the chart looks that way."
His co-worker glanced over. "You say something, bro?"
Andi shook his head. "Nah, just thinking out loud."
But the truth was, his brain was spinning.
He needed a way to see through the noise. A way to spot fake promises, weak fundamentals, maybe even scams pretending to be the next big thing.
He wiped his hands, checked the time, and made a mental note:
Tonight, after his shift, he'd start digging.
He didn't want to just pick some random failing coin and call it bad.
He wanted to understand why it was failing.
That, he figured, was probably the point.
After work, Andi opened CoinMarketCap.
He was still wearing his restaurant apron.
He set the filter to show tokens with more than a 30% price change in the last seven days.
One name caught his eye:
$DOGEMARSX
The name felt off.
"Doge... Mars... X?" he said.
It sounded like a mix of Dogecoin, Elon Musk, and whatever was trending.
Something didn't sit right.
He clicked on the token's page.
If he wanted to understand what made a bad token, he needed to look at one up close.
And this one already seemed suspicious. It sounded like someone mashed together every viral crypto buzzword they could find—Dogecoin, Elon Musk, Mars. Andi chuckled.
"Alright, let's see what this meme coin is all about."
He clicked in.
Total Supply: 1,000,000,000,000,000,000
He stared at the number.
"Wait... one quadrillion?"
He almost laughed. "Yo, could you actually buy like five thousand rupiah of this and get a trillion coins?"
He scrolled down the page. Things got even sketchier.
There was no whitepaper.
No listed developers.
The "official website" was just a single static page with big, blinking text:
"We're heading to the MARS. Join the Doge Army!"
That was it. No product info, no roadmap, not even an FAQ.
Andi frowned. He opened a new tab and typed:
"Is DOGEMARSX legit?"
"DOGEMARSX rugpull?"
A bunch of Reddit threads came up. He started reading through the comments.
"This token is just made up. The admin disappeared after launch."
"No updates for a month now. No roadmap, nothing."
"Definitely smells like a rugpull."
Andi let out a long sigh. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.
"This is it. This is the token I've been looking for."
He opened a fresh doc and started typing his notes for CryptoGhost:
Problem Token: $DOGEMARSX
Total Supply: One quadrillion. Yeah, seriously. That's not a real economy—that's a joke.
Volume: Super volatile. Dropped hard over the last five days.
Whitepaper: Not available.
Team: Completely anonymous.
Website: Just one flashy line about going to Mars. No info, no team, no tech.
Personal Comments:
"$DOGEMARSX is a textbook example of a hype-driven meme coin. No transparency, no whitepaper, no roadmap, and an absurdly inflated supply. It might be a rugpull waiting to happen. Definitely not something beginners should mess with."
He saved the file and smiled to himself.
For the first time, he wasn't just reacting to the market—he was understanding it.
That night, Andi sent his analysis to CryptoGhost.
The reply came almost instantly:
CryptoGhost:
You nailed the analysis. But more importantly, you're starting to think critically.
Crypto isn't just about making money. It's about how you make it—especially in a space full of lies.
Andi stared at that last sentence.
He read it over and over.
"I survive..."
He couldn't shake the weight of those words.
Later, he wrote in his journal:
Day 16:
"Today I didn't learn about profit.
I learned about instinct.
I'm working on not getting too excited when I see tokens that look cute and cheap.
The world is full of traps. But the more I understand the patterns, the less likely I am to fall into the same hole twice."
The next day, something unexpected happened.
CryptoGhost mentioned Andi in the group chat.
CryptoGhost:
Just so you know, user @AndiLurker sent two solid analyses—one on a promising token, one on a risky one.
He writes with clarity and honesty, which makes him a good reference for other beginners.
Learn from each other.
This isn't a popularity contest. It's a way of thinking.
Andi just stared at the message.
He didn't reply. He didn't have to.
He just sat there, letting it sink in.
For the first time, he felt like he belonged.
Andi read the message and felt a chill run down his back.
He glanced at his screen. His username stood out: AndiLurker here.
Usually, he just watched from the sidelines. But now, his name had been mentioned as an example.
"I'm just a regular guy," he thought. "But now people are reading what I write."
No one at the restaurant knew.
While his coworkers joked around in the break room and played Mobile Legends on their phones, Andi sat in the corner with his back against the wall—staring at charts, reading whitepapers.
There was one moment when a coworker looked over and said,
"You've changed, Di. You're way quieter now."
"What are you playing every night?"
"Wait—are you doing one of those crypto MLM things?"
Andi just laughed.
"Nah. I'm not trying to sell anything. I'm just trying to change myself."
That night, he couldn't sleep.
It wasn't because of stress. It was because his brain wouldn't shut off.
He stared at the ceiling of his tiny rented room. The old fan made its usual beeping noise, but tonight, it didn't bother him.
His mind wasn't stuck on worries—it was stuck on ideas.
"If every token follows a pattern," he thought, "then this is something I can actually study. It's not just about luck anymore."
He remembered his childhood.
He used to love puzzles—taking things apart just to figure out how they worked.
Breaking down toys, solving mazes, trying to understand how all the pieces fit together.
Now that he was diving into crypto, it felt kind of the same.
Except now, the stakes weren't just about toys.
They were time, emotions, and money.
The next day in the Telegram group, a new member posted a question:
"Bro, $MCM keeps going up. Can I still get in?"
The replies came in fast, but most of them didn't really say anything useful.
"To the moon, bro!"
"Just ape in. I'm already 80% up."
Andi watched quietly. He didn't want to sound like a know-it-all.
But then, after a moment of hesitation, he typed something simple:
"Check the volume, market cap, and chart history first.
Don't jump in just because it's rising."
The group went silent for a few seconds.
Then a message came through—from CryptoGhost himself:
"Exactly. Like Andi said.
Don't let FOMO take over.
First, take a good look.
Then decide."
Andi just stared at the screen.
My name again... in front of 300 people.
He didn't reply. He just let it sit.
That night, he wrote in his journal.
Day 17:
"This is the first time I don't feel dumb in front of a crowd.
I used to be afraid people would think I was showing off.
But now? I honestly don't care.
What matters is that I'm learning—
and I'm being real about it."
He thought back to his childhood.
He used to love puzzles—taking things apart just to see how they worked.
Disassembling toys, solving mazes, figuring out how the pieces fit.
Now that he was deep into the crypto world, it felt kind of the same.
Except now, the stakes weren't just about toys.
They were time, emotions, and money.
On Day 20, CryptoGhost gave me a new assignment:
"Keep a daily analysis journal for a week.
It doesn't have to be anything fancy.
What matters is consistency.
If you can write even just one page a day, it means you're serious.
Crypto's not for the faint of heart."
Andi didn't hesitate. He opened a new document and typed the title:
Andi's Journal – Week One
Day 1:
Token: $OPT
Entered at 0.061 after failing to break past 0.069
Volume is 3x the 7-day average
News just dropped about a new partnership
Overall sentiment is positive, but maybe time to consider taking profit
Comment:
"Buy after a small pullback. But be ready to cut if it breaks support."
Day 2:
Token: $DYN
AI x Web3 project
Backed by solid investors (HashKey Capital)
Team looks legit
One red flag: tokenomics are a little off—private allocation seems too big
Comment:
"Interesting from a tech angle, but the token structure could be risky in the long run."
And so it continued—Day 3, Day 4, all the way to Day 7.
With each entry, Andi felt his thinking shift.
He wasn't chasing hype anymore. He wasn't getting pulled in by coins that just looked exciting.
Instead, he started spotting holes in projects that seemed too perfect on the surface.
He was thinking like an analyst.
Exactly one week later, he got a DM from CryptoGhost.
CryptoGhost:
Your journal's solid.
I'm not promising anything, but—
There's a small channel where some beginner traders hang out.
They could use someone to help review their picks.
Wanna give it a shot?
Andi froze.
Me? A reviewer?
He stared at the message for a few seconds, heart pounding.
He never imagined someone would ask him to guide others.
It wasn't a job.
It wasn't paid.
It was an invitation.
An invitation into a deeper circle.
Andi sat there, thinking.
"If I say no now… I might never get another shot."
He took a breath, then typed his reply:
"I'm in. As long as I can keep learning, too."
CryptoGhost:
That's the right mindset.
Learning isn't just about taking things in.
It's also about sharing what you've already figured out.
The more you teach, the more it starts to make sense.
That night, Andi opened his journal.
Day 22:
"I don't know what my life is going to look like.
But today… for the first time, I felt like I'm not alone."
"Back then, I wasted Rp50,000 on FOMO.
Now I see money as fuel—for learning, not just gambling."
"This isn't the end.
It's just the beginning."