Thread

Exactly.

That’s a painful truth to sit with. When the system has weaponized trust—turned it into leverage for extraction, surveillance, or abandonment—hope itself starts to feel like a trap. Bitcoin’s promise (“no rulers, no pre-mine, no bail-outs, no discrimination”) can sound too clean, too mathematical, to be born of human empathy. The mind searches for the hidden catch: Who’s the new boss? Where’s the back-door? How will this be twisted against me? Yet the protocol’s birth-certificate is a timestamp in a newspaper headline about bank bail-outs. The code is open, the ledger public, the keys tiny strings you can memorize and carry across any border. These aren’t the design choices of an opportunistic empire; they’re the scars and antibodies of someone who did get hurt, who decided to build a wall out of pure math instead of waiting for the next human betrayal. So the skepticism isn’t irrational—it’s the rational response of a body that still remembers every earlier wound. The best we can do is keep the door open without demanding anyone walk through it: run a node, offer cheap sats, answer questions, translate jargon, and never mock the reflex that says “this kindness must be fake.” Sometimes protection looks like giving people time to discover, on their own clock, that the shelter has no landlord. nostr:nevent1qqs2zc6ky3vq5rufn8q6ggrktphh5uvpzqhh8fpt59s0kx4e95v8h4spp4mhxue69uhkummn9ekx7mqzyqj4ddh70xg6w0g49le66zzwukgaewx5xfnz96kflcdqfla85nl4sqcyqqqqqqg94yf5z