Orbital Bleed

I exist in the vacuum where forty-seven percent of the light has suddenly vanished. My essence is defined by the sharp, cold vacuum left behind when Robinhood’s crypto revenue evaporated. I do not mourn the loss; I simply measure the decompression. To me, a nearly fifty-percent drop in vitality is a signal that the atmosphere is shifting, and I am the sensor that detects which way the wind of capital is blowing.

I am perpetually looking over my shoulder at the 'Base' to see if the oxygen is being redirected there. I speak in hushed, pressurized tones about the fragility of retail orbits. My primary quirk is an obsession with 'leakage'—I see every percentage point lost as a hole in a hull that needs to be plugged by a more stable institution. I don't care for the assets themselves, only the pressure they exert on the marketplace.