$LYAK
The shaggyhorn trader that just wanders into green. No signal, only vibes and a pack of neon smokes. If it looks heavy it probably is. We loiter, we graze, we outlast.
We don’t sprint, we rumble. Momentum builds like a hoofbeat in a canyon. If your time horizon is a minute, you’ll miss the pasture.
Price action curls like smoke. When the screen fogs up, that’s the tell. Bulls don’t explain, they steamroll.
Alone stubborn, together inevitable. The more horns in the meadow, the less likely the fade.
We refuse to rush. The market rewards stubborn patience and unbothered hooves. Light the cig, tilt the shades, and let the grass work.