As we’re in the Roaring Twenties, all expectations of a 2026 crash are pure cope & signs of a low IQ. Another major difference this time - instead of crashing in 2029, we’ll just keep going higher for obvious reasons. Your BTC cycle theory is also kindergarten level analysis. 🚀

30% - 40% tariffs on gold bars? Anyone who owns gold is a complete fool. Sorry.

Nvidia looks like this & people are still not happy.

While you are scaling out, Airmass is buying more BTC. Thank you for your sacrifice. 🚀

People can’t believe that A)The S&P is up 30% in 14 weeks, something that normally took over a decade & B)Google is not going anywhere despite spectacular earnings - all of which Airmass told you would happen before anyone could imagine it 🚀

They are saying this now. But never before the 760% rise…

This is a very popular opinion, bro.

Is Airmass staying max long into extremely overbought conditions? Absolutely. 🚀

New narrative just dropped - “Rate cuts are bearish, bro”. Airmass just did his analysis & can assure you this is pure bullshit. 🚀

I don’t want a billion dollars. I wouldn’t trade places with a single billionaire. I’m young. I’m ripped. I sleep like a machine. I train hard. I control my time, my energy, and where I live. I’m not solving for more. I’m solving for mastery of life. What is the Sovereign Artiste? -Ripped physique, year-round -Sleep so deep I wake up reborn -Testosterone in the 800s — natural, free, surging -Sun on my face -Deep work from 11am to 2pm, then I’m done -Bitcoin compounding in the background -Mojo humming -A woman who’s visibly lit up just being near me -Full autonomy over every hour of my day The Sovereign Artiste has solved for time. The rarest, most misunderstood form of wealth. I don’t schedule calls. I don’t “circle back.” I don’t do Slack. If I want to disappear to Paris, Costa Rica, or the South of Spain? I go. No permission. No friction. Just movement. I don’t chase money. Money comes to me. While I walk. While I train. While I sip espresso, listening to Eckhart Tolle, staring into the sea. I don’t sit in board meetings. I’m in my 911 Turbo S, top down, flying down the coast Blasting Dalida - Paroles, Paroles Nothing in my head but sunlight and music. Dinner? -Dry-aged striploin, seared hard -Potato bravas, crisp with smoked paprika -A Cadillac margarita Across the table: a woman who looks like she belongs in a perfume ad Most billionaires? Overworked. Overcommitted. Bloated. Bland. Testosterone in the 300s. Kids don’t text back. Ten mansions. Not one that feels like home. Me? 850 T. 7.2% body fat. Bitcoin compounding while I sleep. Beach. A woman who can’t stop looking at me. I am the Sovereign Artiste. And the men chasing 9 and 10 figures? They’re just trying to feel what I feel every damn day.