Crypto Whirlwinds: Shiba’s Last Stand, Dogecoin’s Disappointment, and XRP’s Moment of Truth

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The old dog Shiba Inu (SHIB) lounges on the rug, peering with mild irritation at the distant horizon. The fire has dwindled, the tea is cold, and outside the window, only two figures are left: $0.00001167, sturdy but trembling, and $0.00001061, frail as the landlord’s mustache, both defiant before the howling winds of collapse. Once, the house was lively—the EMAs danced, buyers laughed, fortunes turned like spinning tops. Now all’s quiet but for the sound of price trickling lower, like rainwater finding its way through an unpatched roof.

Support? Hardly. We sit at $0.00001167, wringing hands, exchanging glances. Every bounce is anemically polite: “Oh no, after you,” it seems to say. Even the volume refuses to attend, declining invitations to rally as if protesting an unfashionable party. And should SHIB trip below $0.00001061, brace yourself: another zero arrives, and even the candle chart will avert its eyes in embarrassment. The indicators gather in a corner, muttering. The 50, the 100, and even the august 200 EMA—once pillars—now block SHIB’s path like bureaucrats clutching red tape. As for the RSI, it’s flatlining around 35, in the sort of resignation reserved for actors at poorly attended matinees. Unless SHIB finds a miracle, the only thing rising here will be the existential dread.

Across the hall, Dogecoin (DOGE) is caught mid-step at the mini-golden cross—an event that promised romance, drama, and riches, but instead delivered awkward foot shuffling and a broken violin string. The 50 EMA, full of plans and ambition, now hesitates sheepishly in front of the 100 EMA, finding excuses to avoid further commitment. Bulls, having heard tales of glory, now sulk over their samovars, for the price is tiptoeing gingerly near $0.17, haunted by the ghosts of March’s enthusiasm.

Volumes, of course, have vanished—burrowed into the attic with all the enthusiasm of teenagers at a family reunion. The RSI threatens oversold territory, but nobody seems interested in buying. The mood: gray. The future: uncertain. The only trades happening are in melancholy and occasional eye-rolling. Unless someone—anyone—pours vodka into this chart, the recovery will remain as mythical as the golden cross itself. 🐕

XRP‘s solid warning

A note slides under the door—signed “XRP”—stained by rain and weary anticipation. The price made a desperate dash above its moving averages, trying to breach $2.27, only to slip and tumble, style undone, like an actor missing their cue in the third act. The crowd—a handful of hopefuls—gasps as the price falls back below the 50 and 100 EMA, the scene quickly set for a farce rather than a celebration.

Fakeouts abound in these parts, yet this one is a masterpiece. A swift reversal, volume flaring briefly, then retreating, leaving only the memory of hope. The buyers, caught off guard, fumble scripts—giving bears the stage and the last word. The RSI droops below 50; bullish momentum goes missing, presumed absent. Now, all eyes are on $2.09 and the stalwart but harried 200 EMA. Should support fail, the retracement will arrive—impeccably on time, as if summoned by management to close the show.

So the curtain falls. The market, dreamy-eyed and a bit hungover, lingers in the lobby, hoping for the next act. Until then, there’s only tea, reminiscence—and the distant sound of another rumor starting in the wings. 🎭📉

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2025-06-18 03:19