The whole world is hitting new highs, leaving the crypto circle as the "poor relative."

Original Author: David, TechFlow

There's a kind of poverty where you've done nothing wrong, yet you wake up one day and find yourself poorer than everyone around you.

South Koreans have coined a term for this: 벼락거지. A rough translation would be "lightning-struck poor." It describes being hit by a bolt from the blue, instantly transforming you from an ordinary person into a pauper.

This term first gained traction in 2020 when South Korean housing prices skyrocketed. It referred to those who hadn't bought a house; their income hadn't decreased a cent, but compared to the soaring property values, they had effectively become poorer out of nowhere.

Recently, the term has resurfaced because the South Korean stock market is now mass-producing "lightning-struck poor" people.

Over the past six months, the Korea Composite Stock Price Index (KOSPI) has surged from around 4,000 points to over 8,000 points. Today, the Korean stock market even triggered a circuit breaker after an initial rally. Semiconductor giants like Samsung Electronics and SK Hynix, riding the AI wave, have propelled the entire nation's stock market to new heights.

Consequently, online forums in Seoul are flooded with self-deprecating posts: "Same company, the guy across from me made ten years' worth of salary from semiconductors. I did nothing, and now I'm one of the lightning-struck poor."

This sentiment stings the most for those in the crypto space.

The feeling of "everything around me is rising, except I'm standing still" is something crypto holders experience more deeply, earlier, and are more reluctant to admit. Bitcoin, once repeatedly hailed as the best asset years ago, has been languishing since the major crash last October.

Now, staying in the crypto space waiting for opportunities feels more like a consolation for being bad at stock trading, adding another layer of torment for these "lightning-struck poor."

Structural FOMO, the Lightning-Struck Poor

Missing out on gains (FOMO) actually comes in two flavors, and their pain levels are vastly different.

The first is collective FOMO during a bear market. Everyone loses together. Your portfolio is red; your friend's is even redder. No one in the entire market is making money. This kind of FOMO doesn't hurt much because there's no benchmark.

If you didn't get on board, missing out feels like dodging a bullet. This is how the crypto community endured the bear markets of recent years – it's become the norm.

This year is different. The crypto market as a whole finds itself in an awkward position of structural FOMO.

The money hasn't vanished; it has simply moved. It flowed into gold, into US stocks, and even into South Korea's semiconductor industry with retirees' pension funds. Global liquidity acts like a pump running at full capacity, sucking money from all directions and injecting it into a series of assets hitting new highs.

It has bypassed crypto entirely.

This is completely different from the "everyone is broke" scenario. Everyone else has found a way out, while you stand there, watching the flow of money pass your door without a cent entering. This kind of FOMO is far more devastating than a bear market.

BTC lacks the safe-haven appeal of gold. Tech stocks have hit consecutive new highs, and it hasn't kept pace. During market panics, it's the first to be sold off along with other risk assets. It doesn't ride the wave up, but it doesn't escape the fall – it loses out on both ends.

Holders seeking a safe haven don't find it in BTC. Those seeking high beta don't get it either. The two primary reasons people bought it in the first place have failed to materialize this year.

When you lose money, at least you know clearly whom to blame – you bet on the wrong direction. But FOMO is different. You didn't do anything wrong; the money just bypasses you. You can't even find a specific target for your resentment.

And so, the entire crypto community has become the popular Korean buzzword: the lightning-struck poor.

However, crypto natives possess a keen sense of smell and a relentless drive to tinker. The real reaction for many lightning-struck poor isn't to lie down and accept it, but to migrate with the prevailing current.

In communities and on social media, past discussions revolved around which altcoin could 100x. Now, KOLs who still list crypto tickers in their bios are talking about NVIDIA's earnings and Tesla's support levels.

They have simply taken the skills honed from trading crypto and applied them elsewhere: reading K-lines, chasing narratives, enduring volatility – only the targets have changed from altcoins to US stock tickers. Some have even repurposed their crypto trading scripts, using vibe coding to create monitoring tools for US stocks with chart watching, alerts, and automated order execution in one go.

The skills aren't wasted, just used elsewhere.

On the other side, crypto exchanges are also actively adapting and innovating, launching various on-chain US stock trading products. After all, Hyperliquid has already set a precedent for the entire crypto market.

So, exchanges selling stocks is a quiet attempt at retention. Users want assets hitting new highs, so exchanges bring those assets in to keep users engaged. From retail traders glued to their screens to exchanges listing new products, the entire industry is focused on the same thing:

Finding any way to ride the wave they missed, essentially a trend-chasing FOMO.

Whether proactive or reactive, everyone is acutely aware of a fundamental truth: if they don't adjust their strategy, the assets truly rallying will never be the ones in their hands.

Don't Let FOMO Force You Onto the Last Train

Those who don't want to leave might still have dry powder. Some dollar-cost average into BTC, others hunt for niche narratives. Their coins may not have gone up, but their USDT holdings haven't decreased. They squat through the bear market, waiting for the next wave.

If the principal is intact, can FOMO be treated as if it never happened?

At the start of 2025, RMB was around 7.2 to 7.3 against the USD. Entering 2026, it has been strengthening, and in May, both onshore and offshore rates broke above 6.8, entering the 6.7 range, hitting a three-year high.

What does this mean? Suppose you stayed put, strictly disciplined, didn't chase highs or cut losses. The result? Holding USDT is also a losing proposition. FOMO means others made money while you didn't; you stood still. Now, you're standing still, but the ground beneath your feet is sinking.

Waiting isn't a zero-cost endeavor. Waiting itself is burning money.

Thus, a very natural thought emerges: Since crypto isn't working, should I liquidate my positions and FOMO into assets that are rising? This thought might be far more dangerous than the FOMO itself.

The feeling of missing out needs to be resolved, but chasing might not be the way.

Let's be realistic first: crypto is indeed underperforming in this cycle. And you can't console yourself with "it will come back." The old logic was a four-year cycle – halving, bull run, new highs. If you missed out, you waited for the next one.

The game has changed now. ETFs have turned Bitcoin into a line item on institutional balance sheets. On-chain money is busy buying US stocks. Even exchanges have switched to selling stocks... The crypto of this cycle is fundamentally different from the crypto you remember as the vehicle for 10x overnight gains.

Expecting it to give you another chance based on the old playbook is like searching for a sword's mark on a moving boat. But acknowledging crypto's downturn doesn't automatically make the stock market a safe haven.

If you rush into chasing gold, US stocks, or Korean chips, the profits you make aren't necessarily a testament to your foresight; they are profits from the rising tide. Right now, global liquidity is lifting all boats simultaneously. When the water is high, everyone looks like a competent swimmer. The problem is that tides always recede.

The real test isn't whether you got on board initially. It's whether you have the skill to convert your chips back to cash on shore before the water level drops.

And this is precisely what ordinary people are worst at. We've proven it time and again with NFTs and altcoins – we can catch the rise, but those who successfully take profits are rare as hen's teeth. We always think it can go a bit higher, until it goes to zero.

Changing markets doesn't automatically eliminate these weaknesses. Moving your crypto trading playbook to US stocks will likely mean bringing your "unwillingness to sell" mentality along with it.

So, whether you experience FOMO or not might be a false dilemma. Taking profits and getting off the table is the ultimate imperative.

When South Koreans coined the term "lightning-struck poor," it was meant as self-deprecation for missing out. English FOMO probably conveys a similar meaning. But using someone else's balance sheet to measure yourself, forcing you to jump into a pool you also don't understand at its highest water level – that is genuinely perilous.

The real lightning strike was never the train you missed.

It's the one you finally managed to board, but then, yet again, forgot at which station you were supposed to get off.