# Kapichu Trading Notes

That secret that took me from liquidation to stable profits, I'm laying it all out today. Wait, don't rush to place orders yet. Let me ask you a question: can you clearly explain to me why you entered at those positions you traded today? Why did you set your stop loss there? Why did you close out at that level? If you can't answer, or you just say "it feels like it's going up" or "it looks like it's going down"? Then I'm sorry, you weren't trading, you were just flipping a coin.

I'm Kapichu, and in my first few years of trading, I was exactly that kind of coin-flip player. I'd wake up, glance at the charts, see prices up nicely, and immediately throw in 50 ETH. By afternoon, if it dropped 50 dollars, I'd panic and stop out. By evening, right after my stop loss got hit, it would rally, so I'd chase in again with another position. The market would immediately reverse and hit my stop loss again.

Back then I was so hardworking, staring at charts for over ten hours a day until my eyes almost went blind, but my account was always in the red. Until one day, a veteran trader woke me up. He asked me to pull out all my trading records—those cold, hard transaction lists.

Looking at that long string of long/short P&L records, I asked myself a question: what have I actually learned over these years? The answer was nothing. I didn't know which positions I got right and why. I didn't know which positions I got wrong and why. I was like someone stumbling around blindfolded in a desert, changing direction every time I hit a rock, never thinking to look up and see the path. That's when I realized: if you don't track what you're doing, how can you possibly know if you're making any progress? That painful habit that changed everything.

Later, I did something simple but incredibly painful. I started recording every single trade. I built my own trading journal. I recorded entry time, entry reason, stop loss level, take profit level, position size, my mood at the time, the logic behind my decision—I wrote everything down.

At first it was especially painful, especially when losing money. You know what? Humans have an innate mechanism called pain avoidance. The first reaction to losses is to close the exchange app and pretend nothing happened, then scroll short videos to distract yourself. The next day you're trading again like yesterday never existed. I was like that too. But later I forced myself—no matter how bad the loss—to complete the trading record that same night. When writing it out, I'd review it trade by trade: why did I lose on this position? Was my entry point wrong? Was my stop loss too tight? Did I get swept by the spread? Or was it just pure bad luck? This process was incredibly uncomfortable because you have to repeatedly face your own stupidity and impulsiveness.

But something magical happened. Three months later, I started discovering patterns. For example, I found that 80% of my losses came from the same mistake—chasing rallies and panic selling. Every time I saw the market pull a big green candle, I couldn't resist chasing longs, then I'd get trapped at the peak and eventually get stopped out.

For example, I found that all my winning trades had one thing in common—they were all pre-planned. I'd wait for pullbacks to support levels before entering, and every single one had a stop loss set. I strictly followed these rules. If I hadn't recorded and reviewed, I might never have discovered them, because in the daily chaos you can't see yourself clearly. Only when you stretch the timeline and lay out your trades one by one do you see the real you.

The essence of recording is installing a feedback system for your trading. Someone might ask, Kapichu, is recording really that magical? Isn't it just keeping a diary? I want to tell you: the essence of recording isn't actually the act of writing. It's establishing a feedback mechanism. Today you made 50 dollars on one trade—maybe that was luck. Today you lost 30 pips on another—maybe you just got swept by normal market volatility.

If you don't record or trace back, you can't tell which wins came from skill and which from luck. Recording installs a feedback system for your trading. It helps you see order in chaos, patterns in randomness. It forces you to become someone who trades by logic instead of feeling.

There's also one especially important point: when you start recording, you discover a truth—the actual time spent on trading doesn't need to be that much. Now I probably spend only half an hour each day making actual decisions: waiting for a pullback, waiting for an entry signal. What am I doing the rest of the time? Reviewing, reflecting, refining my system. The time I spend on recording and review far exceeds the actual time I spend placing orders and watching the charts. That's what's truly important.

Finally, I want to share some genuine thoughts with you. I know recording sounds boring, and doing it is even more boring, especially when you're losing money. Who has the energy to sit around writing and drawing when you just want to close the computer and pretend nothing happened? I understand that feeling completely because I've been there. But I want to tell you a fact: the moments that hurt you most are exactly when you grow the fastest. Losing trades are your best teachers, but only if you're willing to face them, willing to write them down, willing to ask yourself: where exactly did I go wrong?

Every bit of my current stable profits doesn't come from winning trades. It comes from losing trades—ones I reviewed line by line, reflected on over and over, and transformed into my experience, my discipline, my system.

If you ask me what the most critical turning point was from losses to stable profits, my answer is always just one thing: the moment I started keeping my trading journal. That's when I truly stopped being someone who loses and became an actual trader.

All top practitioners across every field share one common habit: they record every single execution, then they see from the data something others can't see about themselves. The essence of recording is turning vague feelings into clear evidence, turning "I think" into "the data says."

So if you're still in that daily coin-flipping state, ask yourself one question: did I actually trade this year? Or was I just hoping for random profits? If you haven't recorded, if you haven't learned from losses, then this year can't really count as you trading. You're just a passerby of time, not a participant in the market. Recording is boring. Recording is painful. But it's the only way to become a real trader.

If you've taken this to heart, starting today, open Excel or grab a notebook and record every single trade you make going forward. Three months later, you'll thank yourself for today.