Ronaldo da Silva, modern visionary – at least that's how he called himself. Between coffees and videos on Cos.TV like "Cryptocurrencies: Rich in 5 Minutes!", he decided that speculating in the crypto market was his ticket to the elite. "Why work when I can let the blockchain do it for me?", he would say, echoing Lafargue in a manifesto disguised as lazy self-justification. He saw work as a conspiracy of the elites to steal the best of our time: the sacred hours of binge-watching.
Inspired by 'Sapiens' by Harari, Ronaldo named his crypto wallet "Cooperation Narrative". He found it poetic – "That's what money is, a fiction that everyone agrees to pretend exists!" – although his girlfriend, Júlia, saw that he was just stalling to avoid doing the dishes. Ronaldo had grand plans. He invested all his money, including his grandmother's savings, in coins like
$TRUMP e and
#LIBRA convinced that digital trash would be the future.
The narrative really seemed to work. Graphs shot up like rockets, and Ronaldo was already choosing his Lamborghini model, since the car he had was a Celta with a bad battery. But, as any good reader of Harari knows, shared fictions have weaknesses. On a fateful Tuesday, amidst tweets from billionaires and announcements from Chinese regulators, his memes melted faster than ice cream in the sun. When he tried to sell, the brokerage froze – which he called "system sabotage".
With no option, Ronaldo returned to his natural state: lying on the couch complaining about life while researching a new strategy. "Maybe the metaverse is the next step," he told Júlia while wearing a virtual reality headset he didn’t even know how to use. Lafargue would be proud of Ronaldo, not for the financial failure, but for his dedication to the art of avoiding physical work.
Thus, Ronaldo remained a failed but optimistic crypto prophet, convinced that the next stroke of luck would pull him out of his digital apathy. After all, if money is fiction, no one can blame him for dreaming big.
$METIS $OM #Write2Earn