"Revenue? No.
If you show revenue, people will ask ‘How much?’
And it will never be enough.
It’s not about how much you earn, it’s about what you’re worth. And who’s worth the most?
Companies that lose money."
Latest OpenAI numbers from the FT:
800m users, 5% paying (40m).
$13bn in ARR.
Implies a $325 annual ARPU, or $27/month per paying user.
70% of rev from subscriptions, rest is API.
$8bn loss in H1, prob $20bn run rate loss now? So basically spending $3 for each $1 in revenue.
I texted my wife to come to my office that I needed her. She came, I held her, I cried, told her what happened. Took a deep breath and reminded myself that feeling sorry for myself doesn’t accomplish my life goals. Started going through wallets, adding up what I have left and reminded myself that I can rebuild. Then I started offering emotional support to others. Because as bad as you ever have it there’s always people who have it worse.
A Post-Crash Pilot Debrief from The White Whale
$62M - gone in a flash. But as was repeatedly pounded into my head in pilot training: any landing you can walk away from is a good landing.
As I’ve been processing yesterday’s events, I want to share a few thoughts from a place of honesty, vulnerability, and accountability - as I always have.
Let’s start with why I faced such a large liquidation, and then I’ll share some observations from the last 18 hours.
First and foremost: I got too fixated on the goal.
At one point this year, my unrealized PnL sat at 98 out of 100 million. Counting profits from other platforms, I had actually surpassed that goal - but because some of those platforms lacked HyperLiquid’s transparency, it became a mental game of “proof, or it didn’t happen.”
Heading into late September, my thesis was that because everyone expected a dip, it wouldn’t happen - and I wanted to be positioned in case I was right. I wasn’t. But I remained calm; I’ve survived every “black swan” this year and turned each into profit before.
That 100M milestone meant more than numbers to me. Years ago, I built a real-world company with that same amount as my exit target goal. But I walked away - choosing peace over profit. Running it had made me miserable; I was a prisoner to my own creation. So being able to finish that prior goal, this time on my own terms, became a form of redemption. A personal validation that I’d found a better way.
I’ve always been stubbornly resilient. Knocked down, yes - but never out.
That same determination that helped me survive life’s earlier chapters also made me impatient to start the next one. I wanted to move beyond daily trading and begin shaping the future of this space - helping build what comes next, not just benefiting from it.
Crypto is wild, beautiful, and broken in equal measure. My background has always been consumer-first: if you do right by people, your reward eventually comes. That principle belongs here, too - and I intend to bring it here.
But I rushed. I let excitement override discipline. And that’s on me.
While the timeline was full of “crime season” posts (ironically including my own), I’ve always believed this: you can’t claim the victories if you won’t own the failures.
Yesterday, when someone asked how I was handling it, I admitted I cried in my wife’s arms. Some mocked it with “no crying in the casino.” But I shared that moment intentionally - because sometimes, it’s okay to not be okay.
Vulnerability, especially among men, needs more voices.
And for the record - I’m still up for the year. I’ll recover, rebuild, and rise again.
A few quick observations from the wreckage:
L2 failures, once again.
During peak activity, Arbitrum and Base failed me - transactions hung while I tried to move stables. Solana, meanwhile, stayed rock solid. It wouldn’t have saved the position (nothing could outrun that $3200 ETH / $138 SOL wick), but once again Solana proved it performs when it matters most and earns more of my loyalty by the day.
Leverage isn’t the villain.
Some rushed to say, “See, that’s why leverage kills you.” I reject that. Leverage is just a tool - like a knife, a car, or money itself. Tools aren’t evil. The hand that wields them determines the outcome.
The humanity in the aftermath.
Amid the trolls celebrating others’ losses - a dark side of this space I’ll never understand - I also witnessed incredible compassion. People offering comfort, solidarity…even five individuals offering to send me money to help rebuild. I refused, of course - but the gesture hit me hard. It reminded me that for all the toxicity, there’s still goodness here.
Most days I’m the one offering support, not receiving it. Yesterday reversed that dynamic - and it meant more than I can express.
This wasn’t my proudest moment. But every chapter - even the painful ones - has purpose. If this experience reminds even one person to stay humble, to manage risk, to remain human through the chaos, then it wasn’t wasted.
Losses teach what profits never can: where strength truly lives. And mine was never in the number - it’s in the will to rebuild.
🫡 From the depths —
The White Whale 🐋
More than 1,000 wallets on #Hyperliquid were completely wiped out in the market crash — losing everything.
In total, 6,300+ wallets are in the red, with combined losses exceeding $1.23B.
205 wallets lost over $1M
1,070+ wallets lost over $100K
Data based on Hyperliquid leaderboard:
https://t.co/ZBcu58j6Wt
@zoomerfied@grok So basically this guy just created the world’s largest gambling platform - even bigger than Stake - where people can bet on literally anything (even raindrops on a window). And that actually worked? Huh? How is that even possible - or legal?
I dumped 1m$ worth of tokens on @hashflow listing
Awesome project, I will always remembmer it with a good word.
I just thought the price was high at the moment (and was right)