Last weekend I visited a nice little town in Tasmania. It's called Richmond a historical place trying to resemble England, I presume, like a convict who was reimagining home without drawings or photographs. Everything was a bit wobbly, the Gumtrees were scraggly and if you squinted your eyes on this "oldest bridge in Australia" it looked like an impression. It was not lost on me on this beautiful day, that we had in some way extracted time from the future (especially as a citizen of the west) to visit this untouched town of the past. The melancholia of knowing that I was also more like this old town closer to it in earth history than the system yet to be ushered in by our collective move to Bitcoin. Everything is more uncertain and sad because I discovered Bitcoin, what it has revealed to me, the implied human misery of our past systems. The implied human misery of my actions today and yet, Bitcoin has also reflected onto me more certainty and hopefulness. As if to say I have had my last drag of the cigarette and I'm not going back.