NixingZhe

$fil hit over $200 at its peak, now around $1.10; that's a massive drop.
Long-term holders are stuck, cutting losses and exiting; active users and discussions are both very low.
Volume is shrinking, typical of a slow bleed and bottoming phase.
The AI + storage narrative is moving from 'hype' to 'real demand'.
In 2026, the market focus will shift from chatbots to AI training data, storage, computing power, and data security infrastructure.
FIL's official 2026 strategy is clear: shift from 'capacity competition' to 'real paid storage demand', focusing on enterprise-level and AI data storage.

In this life, what's truly important? The first half is about realism, while the second half is about predictions (adapted). My memories from age 4 are pretty fuzzy; I just remember the shop at the village entrance, feeling like it was the most crucial place because from there I could find home. At 5, I thought having my parents by my side was what mattered most, but life isn't always smooth sailing. By age 8, I felt satisfied just living with my grandparents. At 9, I started looking forward to my dad coming back to see me every year. At 10, a kind math teacher made me realize I should earn a certificate to repay her kindness. At 12, in a new environment, I believed seeing my dad every day was the top priority. At 15, I found myself daydreaming while watching my classmate drool on the desk while sleeping; I unconsciously accepted that she was the most important. By 20, leaving school to find a decent job felt like the most significant milestone. At 25, seeing my bride surrounded by guests made me think her happiness was the most important thing, even though I felt a bit of regret inside. At 26, wanting to change my future led me to impulsively lose over a million in the stock market; I then thought getting back to solid ground was essential. At 28, meeting the dream girl who recklessly came to my side made me feel she was the most important. At 32, my wedding day arrived; despite the ups and downs, at that moment, my bride was the most important person to me. At 34, I realized something even more significant was coming—becoming a dad, where the concepts of responsibility and family became paramount. By 35, money had me stressed out, leading me to believe it was extremely important. At 39, I suddenly realized my dad was aging, having worked hard all his life; only then did I understand his importance. At 40, when my child stopped being clingy, I realized that as time went on, my child would drift away, making me understand that perhaps time itself is the most important thing. At 45, I recognized I had spent half my life in a daze; looking at my chaotic health reports, I never felt important. At 50, sunbathing while recalling my youthful dreams, I never realized how vital those dreams were. By 55, watching my child enter marriage, I still hoped their happiness was more significant than mine. At 58, I was panting behind my grandson, fearing he might fall. In that moment, I felt his health and happiness were what truly mattered. At 63, I grew older, and many things became clearer; wanting to hear my elders' ramblings felt incredibly important. At 71, as my children got busy with their lives and my grandson went to school, dancing with my wife made me suddenly realize how important she is. At 83, lying in the hospital, I understood that my time was limited. The doctor reassured me that it wasn't a big issue; I smiled and told the doctor that life has no major problems, just making it through each day is what’s vital. At 85, lying on a critical care bed, I no longer had the energy to ponder what was most important; I just wanted everything simplified for after my passing. While thinking this, my eyelids grew heavy, and I seemed to see the shop at the village entrance again. I longed to go home, so without hesitation, I jumped off the hospital bed and ran home. As I sprinted, I looked back at the ward and saw them sobbing for me; although I felt a pang of sorrow, I knew they would be okay. So, what's most important? Everything matters, but it's not all essential. One day, I will lose all those things I once thought were most important; everything is just a fleeting possession, even life. Perhaps regret is the norm of existence.