Why I Don’t Hold Stables Anymore

I’ve been thinking a lot about stability lately -- not just as an economic concept, but as a way of living, of choosing, of navigating the world.

There’s this idea in computer science: Greedy (stable) vs. Exploratory (unstable) search strategies.
Stable strategies commit early. Unstable ones keep exploring.
Each has trade-offs. But if you commit too early, you might settle for something suboptimal.
And if you never commit, you might run out of time.

That idea keeps echoing in my head -- especially when I look at what’s happening in crypto, in the world, in my own wallet.

Because if I open Jupiter Mobile these days and see any USDC sitting there… I feel it.
That quiet discomfort.
That instinct that says: something’s off.

The Illusion of Stability

We’re told that “stables” are safe. That they’re a refuge.
But what are we actually holding?

The dollar is inflating.
Treasury yields are spiking.
The fiscal playbook is pure improvisation.
And geopolitical trust? Fragile at best.

What we call “stable” today feels more like tail-risk in disguise.
There’s no clear exit strategy. No long-term solution.
And that’s just the macro layer.

Zoom in, and it gets even weirder.

The same banks and institutions that dismissed crypto for a decade are now the loudest voices pushing stablecoin adoption.
Suddenly, putting debt on-chain is “innovation.”
Why?
Because they need buyers.
They need holders.
They need people to keep believing.

In many ways, it feels like a final act -- an attempt to digitize trust in a system that’s already wobbly.

A Wallet Gut Check

I’ve been in crypto nearly a decade.
I remember the cypherpunk ethos.
The hard questions.
The early dreams.

So when I hold stables today, especially wrapped in regulatory fog and PR smoke, it doesn’t align with where I started.
Or where I think we need to go.

That’s not fear.
That’s clarity.

What I Do Want to Hold

I want to hold tokens tied to strong communities.
Assets backed by shared belief, not fragile consensus.
Memes that reflect reality -- not attempt to obscure it.

That’s why the unstable meme matters.
It’s not just funny or chaotic or degen.
It’s honest.

It says: “This is the world you live in. Volatile. Fragile. Uncertain. And alive.”

Unstable relationships.
Unstable economies.
Unstable institutions.

And somehow weirdly there’s comfort in that honesty.

The Meme Is the Message

The unstable meme works because it spans the curve.

Left curve: it’s funny. Volatile coin go up, go down.
Right curve: it’s deeply philosophical -- a critique of fiat illusions and monetary performance art.
In between: most of us, feeling that something’s off, but struggling to say it out loud.

That’s why it lands.

It doesn’t pretend to fix the system.
It refuses to lie about it.
It just points to the wobble and goes: “Yup.”

It’s Bigger Than the Coin

I’m not saying “buy this token.”
I’m saying look at the moment.
Look at what it’s revealing.

Yesterday, the SEC said self-custody is a fundamental right.
That matters.
Because rights only matter if people use them.

So maybe the real power of unstable isn’t the asset -- it’s the mindset.

The permission to stop outsourcing trust.
To stop clinging to fake stability.
To choose volatility, not even for profit, but for truth.

I don’t hold stables anymore.

Not because I’m bearish on the world.
Quite the opposite.
Because I’m awake.
Because I'm optimistic on real communities.

Unstable is how the world feels.
And maybe, just maybe -- it’s how we build something honest in the wreckage.