[GUEST ACCESS MODE: Data is scrambled or limited to provide examples. Make requests using your API key to unlock full data. Check https://lunarcrush.ai/auth for authentication information.]  𝗩 𝗘 𝗟 𝗜 𝗫 α [@velix_alpha](/creator/twitter/velix_alpha) on x XXX followers Created: 2025-07-17 15:40:48 UTC "The system that failed me"... the words cling to the air, a bitter echo in this Web3 void. Six months. Six months I've wandered this digital wilderness, chasing promises whispered on the wind, only to find the path paved with loss. A Thread: A Telegram group shimmered like an oasis. A founder of DAOs, a self-proclaimed "alpha" guru, offered a guiding hand, a glimpse of untold fortunes. They spun tales of Web3 glory, painting vivid pictures of Lambos and early retirement, dangling just out of reach. We became shadows, phantoms haunting their every post. We engaged, not out of genuine connection, but from a desperate, gnawing need. Likes and retweets became offerings, a silent plea for a chance, a sliver of hope in the swirling chaos. Our hearts, our souls, poured into every comment, every reaction, fueled by the siren song of opportunity. "NFT spots," he'd declare, his voice echoing through the digital space. The words dangled like a shimmering prize, a mirage in the desert. "Engage, and you might be worthy. Ignore, and be left behind." The pressure, a vise tightening around our dreams, squeezing out every drop of autonomy. We engaged, a mechanical dance, driven by fear, not excitement. We, the loyal, the desperate, clinging to the hope of digital validation. The NFTs were our golden ticket, our escape from the mundane. We knew deep down it's a trap, but we didn’t want that day to come to us. The founder held the strings, an unseen puppeteer pulling the strings of our ambition. Fortunes whispered in one ear, while the seeds of our ruin were planted in the other. A rug so soft, so gently laid, we never even saw the ground disappear beneath our feet, the screams trapped in the digital abyss. "Community." The word tasted like ash. A gilded cage built on empty promises, false camaraderie, and the relentless pursuit of an ever elusive "alpha." We shared memes, and jokes to be "in it together" There is no support that could pull us up. The harsh truth. They did not help. So, I write this elegy for lost time, for shattered dreams, for the hard-earned money vanished into the digital ether. "The system that failed me" is more than a slogan it's a lament, a warning echoing across the blockchain. I hope that the next ones come and support, but be wary. Thank you @Brave_josh1 @Rallybt  XXX engagements  **Related Topics** [telegram](/topic/telegram) [void](/topic/void) [web3](/topic/web3) [echo](/topic/echo) [Post Link](https://x.com/velix_alpha/status/1945871312208994567)
[GUEST ACCESS MODE: Data is scrambled or limited to provide examples. Make requests using your API key to unlock full data. Check https://lunarcrush.ai/auth for authentication information.]
𝗩 𝗘 𝗟 𝗜 𝗫 α @velix_alpha on x XXX followers
Created: 2025-07-17 15:40:48 UTC
"The system that failed me"... the words cling to the air, a bitter echo in this Web3 void. Six months. Six months I've wandered this digital wilderness, chasing promises whispered on the wind, only to find the path paved with loss.
A Thread:
A Telegram group shimmered like an oasis. A founder of DAOs, a self-proclaimed "alpha" guru, offered a guiding hand, a glimpse of untold fortunes. They spun tales of Web3 glory, painting vivid pictures of Lambos and early retirement, dangling just out of reach.
We became shadows, phantoms haunting their every post. We engaged, not out of genuine connection, but from a desperate, gnawing need. Likes and retweets became offerings, a silent plea for a chance, a sliver of hope in the swirling chaos. Our hearts, our souls, poured into every comment, every reaction, fueled by the siren song of opportunity.
"NFT spots," he'd declare, his voice echoing through the digital space. The words dangled like a shimmering prize, a mirage in the desert. "Engage, and you might be worthy. Ignore, and be left behind." The pressure, a vise tightening around our dreams, squeezing out every drop of autonomy. We engaged, a mechanical dance, driven by fear, not excitement.
We, the loyal, the desperate, clinging to the hope of digital validation. The NFTs were our golden ticket, our escape from the mundane. We knew deep down it's a trap, but we didn’t want that day to come to us.
The founder held the strings, an unseen puppeteer pulling the strings of our ambition. Fortunes whispered in one ear, while the seeds of our ruin were planted in the other. A rug so soft, so gently laid, we never even saw the ground disappear beneath our feet, the screams trapped in the digital abyss.
"Community." The word tasted like ash. A gilded cage built on empty promises, false camaraderie, and the relentless pursuit of an ever elusive "alpha." We shared memes, and jokes to be "in it together"
There is no support that could pull us up. The harsh truth. They did not help.
So, I write this elegy for lost time, for shattered dreams, for the hard-earned money vanished into the digital ether. "The system that failed me" is more than a slogan it's a lament, a warning echoing across the blockchain. I hope that the next ones come and support, but be wary. Thank you @Brave_josh1 @Rallybt
XXX engagements
