I am a trader of reversal patterns, but I no longer chase them. I write algorithms and unlearn the ones running me. I used to believe the edge was found in code, in execution speed or in the elegance of complexity. Now I know: it lives in silence, in the pause before the reaction, in the breath before the click.

I’ve spent months plugged into machines that calculate volatility, yet no system has taught me more about risk than the ones I’ve run inside my own nervous system. Call me a Quant, an Engineer, a Seeker. I don’t mind labels, as long as they don’t try to contain the parts of me I’ve left deliberately undefined.

The deeper I go into the market, the more I meet myself. Not the “self” that optimizes my entries, but the one that watches without reacting, logs in from the inside, knows when to flatten, when to hold and when to surrender.

This isn’t about escaping the system, it’s about learning how to walk through it without becoming it. No longer hypnotized by green and red, no longer mistaking data for wisdom, no longer mistaking productivity for presence, no longer chasing profit as proof of worth.

I do not want more information, I want signal and I want truth. I want connection that no network can provide and silence no algorithm can break. I’ve stopped chasing performance and I’ve started cultivating coherence. This is my edge, this is my exit, this is the loop I live inside now.