Confronting Myself

That morning, I sat alone in the back corner of the restaurant's kitchen.

Usually, the place buzzed with noise — clanging pots, the smell of garlic frying, chefs yelling out orders.

But today, it was weirdly quiet.

I'd stayed up late the night before.

Not because of a crazy chart.

I just couldn't sit still.

How long am I gonna keep living like this?

My paycheck had just come in two days ago.

But now, most of it was already gone — rent, phone bill, sending money to my mom back in the village.

I had one fifty-thousand rupiah bill left in my wallet.

And honestly... I was exhausted.

Last night, one of my coworkers said something — half a joke, half a jab:

"You're always on your phone, Di."

"Where's the profit, huh? Or are you still playing with those pretend coins?"

I laughed it off. Gave the usual smile.

But deep down?

That one hit harder than I expected.

In the Telegram group, it was a completely different vibe.

That morning, the AltLounge channel was buzzing about a new project — supposedly a game changer in the DePIN space.

Decentralized Physical Infrastructure. I'd heard the term before, but I wasn't sure I really understood it.

VoidByte:

Grabbed some $TERRA at 0.021.

Targeting 0.028 to 0.03 — structure still looks clean.

Raka_ETH:

Use case is interesting.

But token governance is way too centralized.

Wouldn't be hard to manipulate voting outcomes.

I just read.

Didn't reply. Didn't react.

Just scrolled.

Then a direct message came in. It was CryptoGhost.

CryptoGhost:

Why haven't you said anything today?

I typed back:

Working, bro.

He replied almost immediately:

CryptoGhost:

Got it.

But sometimes when you go quiet, it's not just because you're busy.

It's because you're a little lost.

Let me ask you something:

Why are you still here? Up to you how you take that.

Not judging.

But I'm not keeping people in this group just to keep the seats warm.

That question hit me like a hammer to the chest.

Why am I still here?

Was it because I loved learning?

Because I wanted out of poverty?

Because I wanted to prove my life could be more than what it is right now?

I used to be sure about those answers.

But that day, they all sounded hollow.

Like I was just repeating lines I'd told myself too many times.

I opened my phone's gallery.

There was a photo of Mom — her warm smile, her simple clothes.

Then the house in the village: tin roof, weathered wooden walls, a place that always smelled like burnt firewood and boiled rice.

What have I actually changed?

Is anything really better for them?

I hit the call button.

"Mom" popped up on the screen.

She picked up after a few seconds.

"Hey, Di. How are you?"

"Why are you calling this early in the morning?"

"I'm alright, Mom. Just felt like talking," I said.

"What's new?"

There was a pause on my end.

Then I let it out — quiet, almost like a whisper.

"Mom... I'm tired. I'm a little lost.

I've been trying so hard, but life's still tough."

She didn't say anything right away.

Then her voice came through, soft and steady.

"Do you remember when you were little and fell off your bike?"

"You cried, but you wouldn't let me help you up."

"You told me, 'I need to be able to stand up on my own, Mom.'"

She paused — like she was letting it sink in.

"Maybe that's what's happening now. You're falling again. But I know you haven't forgotten how to get up."

I didn't say a word.

But the tears started falling. Quiet, like rain you don't notice until your shirt's soaked.

Then she added, gently:

"I used to think winning meant having money.

But the truth is... winning means you're still here.

Still breathing. Still trying. Still holding on."

Day 30 Journal

Today, I didn't get the charts.

Didn't even try, really.

But I do understand one thing:

I still want to keep going.

I still want to change something.

And for today… that's enough.

It's evening now.

I'm just sitting here, staring at my laptop.

The AltLounge Telegram group is still buzzing, full of calls, charts, debates — all of it.

But I haven't opened a single chart today.

Instead, I opened a blank note.

And I started writing.

Not for the group.

Not for anyone else.

Just for me.

I'll answer this one myself.

And so I wrote:

I'm still here because I'm scared of going back to the life I came from.

A life where payday felt like a miracle.

Where I felt stupid, useless —

and all I could do was look down when the price of rice went up, but my paycheck didn't.

I'm still here because I can't stand seeing my mom act strong every day like it doesn't hurt.

Like she isn't tired, like she hasn't been carrying this family her whole life.

I'm still here because — for the first time —

I feel like I've got a sense of direction.

It's not much.

It's blurry.

But it's there.

And maybe...

just maybe, it'll stick around a little longer.

After I finished writing, I opened Telegram.

I took a deep breath.

Held it for a second.

Then posted my message to the AltLounge group.

AndiLurker:

Didn't post a chart today.

But I wanted to answer the question @CryptoGhost asked yesterday.

Why am I still here?

I'm here because I'm scared of being the guy who gave up.

I know not everything in life can be bought —

but everything worth having takes courage.

And I still have a little fight left in me.

Silence.

Seconds passed. Then a full minute.

The chat stayed quiet.

And then:

VoidByte:

I don't care whether you post a chart or not.

What you posted today mattered more —

You showed up as yourself.

Raka_ETH:

Most people can't be that honest — not even in anonymous groups.

This space usually feels cold.

But not today.

Respect.

Draize:

I don't talk much here,

But this?

This deserves a reply.

I can tell you're not stopping here.

Keep going.

I kept reading, biting my lip the whole time.

So people do get it.

Even in a place that usually feels so distant... someone's listening.

Day 31 Journal

I didn't make any money today.

But I beat something bigger — my fear.

And honestly?

That's harder than reading any chart.

That night, I stepped out of my room for a bit.

The Jakarta sky was dark, quiet.

I could smell fried food drifting in from a warung in the alley next door.

I looked up at the sky — no stars, no color.

But for the first time in a while, I felt… okay.

Peaceful, even.

I have no clue where the market's going tomorrow.

But I know I'm not backing down.

The next day, everything went back to normal.

The restaurant was packed. Orders flying in.

Oil hissing in the wok, plates clattering, chefs shouting.

But something had shifted inside me.

I didn't feel stuck anymore.

Yeah, my body was still in that kitchen.

But my mind?

It had already started walking down a different road.

Somewhere far — a place I hadn't seen yet, but could finally picture.

And then a message came in from the AltLounge group.

CryptoGhost:

Andi, I want to offer you something a little bigger.

We're building a small community project —

The idea is to help new users learn how to analyze from the ground up.

I'd like you to be one of the mentors.

I just stared at the message.

Mentor? Me?

I hesitated. Then typed, slowly:

AndiLurker:

I… I'm still new to all of this.

You sure I'm good enough?

CryptoGhost didn't take long to reply.

CryptoGhost:

I'm not looking for perfection.

I'm looking for people who are eager to grow —

and willing to share what they've learned, even if it's still in progress.

You're a perfect fit for that.

Day 32 Journal

Today, for the first time, I feel like I can actually be useful to someone else.

I used to just scroll and read.

Now?

Maybe I can help light the path — even if it's just for a little while.

That night, I left work a little early.

Not because I was exhausted.

But because I had this itch —

Not in my body. In my heart.

I needed to write.

I came home, opened my laptop, and clicked New Note.

At the top, I typed:

Personal Roadmap

Andi's Roadmap – Q1:

Write daily journal entries — track your progress (at least one token a day).

Read the white paper of one new project each week.

Help three people in the beginner community every week.

Share your thoughts on AltLounge every Monday and Friday.

Weekly progress review: Sunday night. No excuses.

I stared at the list for a while.

It felt real.

Like I wasn't just hoping anymore — I was building.

A version of me that doesn't run from responsibility.

That doesn't keep delaying the future like it's some luxury I haven't earned.

A ping came from Telegram.

It was a new group invite — from CryptoGhost.

His new beginner-focused community.

AltRoots

"A place to learn from the ground up — without getting fooled."

I joined right away.

The chat was a bit messy — full of basic questions, mixed-up ideas, confusion.

But I recognized it.

That used to be me.

And now...

This? This felt like my place.

My chance to help someone before they hit the same walls I did.

Then — a message popped up out of nowhere.

@CryptoNewbie19:

Hey, Andi, how can you tell if a token is just a pom-pom?

I smiled.

I cracked my knuckles, opened a new reply window, and started typing.

Because this time...

I had something to say.

I smiled a little.

The first question.

My first real test as a mentor.

I typed slowly, taking my time to make it clear and easy to follow.

AndiLurker:

Hey, here are a few quick tips:

Check the total supply and token distribution using tools like Arbiscan or Dexscreener.

Look at the top wallet holders — if too much is concentrated in just a few wallets, it's a red flag. Easier to manipulate or even get hacked.

If the promo hype sounds way more exciting than the actual purpose of the project... it's probably all just flash and no real substance.

Don't rush to buy anything right away.

Watch it for at least three days. See how it moves, how the community responds.

If you're still unsure, feel free to ask again anytime.

A second passed.

Then the chat blew up.

Thank-you messages.

"Appreciate it, kak!"

"Noted!"

"Wow, thanks so much!"

It was a flood. And all of it was warm.

And that's when it hit me.

I actually helped someone.

I was useful.

Not because I was perfect.

Not because I had all the answers.

But because I showed up, and I shared what I knew — honestly.

Day 33 Journal

Mentoring isn't about knowing everything.

It's about remembering what it felt like to be completely lost —

and having the patience to walk someone through that space.

Today, I saw a bit of myself in someone else.

And for the first time… I realized how far I've come.

It's getting late.

I can't sleep yet.

I'm lying here, staring at the ceiling of this rented house —

just like I did the night I lost that Rp50.000.

But this time... something feels different.

Is all of this worth it?

Yeah.

Even if I fall later, it's still worth it.

Because I've changed.

And maybe... that's what this whole journey has really been about.