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#trading
Scenario 1: Mr President: "Good news, the war will end soon" Stock prices rise. Expected behaviour. Scenario 2: Anonymous person buys $1.5 billion value of futures, based on no publically available information. 5 minutes later. Mr President: "Good news, the war will end soon" Stock prices rise. Anonymous person makes $100s millions in 5 minutes. Odd behaviour. I wonder who it was, Mr President?
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Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 1:46 AM UTC
Stock Market Oddities
I wish I could accurately depict Exactly how this feels Maybe you would understand My wounds won't ever heal Want you to walk my shoes You can drag heavy feet along Cloud of depression overhead Wandering where it went wrong To see from my point of view Have to exchange our eyes You would have to cry my tears Then you'd realize Switch bodies for a day You'll get how lonely I am Sitting on empty bed Too much time on my hands Let's swap brains for a bit You can be flooded with thoughts Seemingly endless questions Memories twisting to knots If you borrowed tongue Owned my voice instead Would taste the copper flavor of blood From biting back bitter words unsaid I long to change places At least emotions I'd splash in a shallow puddle You'd drown in my oceans I bow head in defeat Will never get why I am blue Would suggest trading hearts I already gave mine to you
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Oct 24, 2021
Oct 24, 2021 at 3:33 AM UTC
Trading Hearts
if I were you what would you have done? would you have shut your mouth? would you have conformed? would you have won? if I were you would you have been counted would I have needed to be brave? would I have chosen to stay the same? would I have found a reason to stay? we can ask these questions until questions no longer exist either way, we won't find out the answers we will never be trading places
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Aug 12, 2021
Aug 12, 2021 at 11:46 PM UTC
trading places
Is there a vaccine that stops us being mean? Ready for Homeless and Queen! A vaccine that heals this routine And keeps you away from the slot machine; That makes economics less obscene; That will wash every sin, dry clean; And will keep you forever at nineteen? A minus 70° vaccine to fight global warming and be green. Maybe you don’t need a vaccine If you travel in a limousine!
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Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 5:27 AM UTC
VACCINE
Trading life for death isn't the countermeasure for strife! As it is very "politely" too say that life mocks the complete scenario of death itself. However, if you actually started to take a little closer look at ourselves in general... You'd come to say that our very lives, aren't so different when death essentially claims them. Only when it is time for our lives to become entirely subjected upon deaths desire to appoint life to crumble at deaths very feet. Life in deaths very comparison for an opposite comparison, is seeing that it's nothing but "dust at one's very toes". But when life is about to crumble and seemingly turn into a crumbling dustless ash... It see's itself (for the very first time ever) plead too death in such a way as if it's begging at it's very, well...feet! Revealing it's form of crumbling dustless ash, even before it's become aware of that very state. As all life ever wanted (after coming to the final point in it's very supposed fluid ride of existence) was to hope for a nice ending! Until finding out that death wasn't so merciful!
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Aug 1, 2020
Aug 1, 2020 at 4:56 PM UTC
Trading life for death!
At the end of it all, what were we trading for? A brain inside our skull, spending it for muck!
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Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 4:43 PM UTC
Brain-Trades
Buy what will last and not what you see.
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Aug 10, 2019
Aug 10, 2019 at 3:52 PM UTC
Buy
~for Wendy ~ with my almost two years old poetry advisor, who loves her Sunday rituals, an extra sabbath, of waffles and Shrek, kid’s gym and artistic endeavors, cozying up with Nana and siblings in a big old bed, snacking and chewing on the good silk sheets as always, she and and I go off to have an intellectual conversation, letting the older ones to do kid stuff, while we converse and debate topics of nature vs. nurture, the weather vs. climate change, and the future of everything, unbeknownst to everyone else which is greater, love or honor, she inquires, sensing my thoughts are preoccupied with matters of honor... as she strokes my itchy, scratchy day old face, insuring her having my full attention, while taking advantage of my loving weakness grandpa: honor over everything my opening gambit, while she coyly harrumphs in response, one can love without reason for such are our natural souls programmed, but honor needs concentration and contemplation, and if done right, then love will surely follow! She-Woman: ah ha! once again you sidle up to nurture, cause love is too inexplicable, old man, old man, did I not love you before any season of reason crossed my brow, and my vocabulary consisted of just more, no, toy and hungry what did I know of Aristotle, logic, codes of conduct, the definition of honor yet abstract, while love is nature’s illogical construct, coming first without restrictions, while honor is malleable and property of the eye of the beholder grandpa: wise beyond your tears, you are, and unquestionably correct, but while coming first, love cannot last, until cover-coated with honor, for honor gives us the because, and locks down the why, honor gives the insight, the rationale, the rules of how to say yes and no, when love is tendered and an R.S.V.P. is requested She-Woman: absent experience, for now will concede, but be warned this is not over, fo you have not brought me a definition of what truly honor be grandpa: honor is the housing of love, and though you granted me your favor, comes the day that you will demand proofs that what was unearthed & unearned is now earned, a course in credit, a baccalaureate in life’s lanes, when to heed them, when to crossover, when to say I do, I do, no to someone else alone, and yes to your honorable self She-Woman: adult double speak, I suspect, and you will rue the day when forced to concede, with a wrenched ‘child, I do not know,’ meanwhile change my diaper after I karate chop your knee Grandpa: yes child, but know,  two of your requests/notifications are honorable acts and/know real love can be ONLY be exchanged tween honorable humans
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Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 10:05 AM UTC
Honor vs. Love: trading karate chop love poems (a love poem)
~for Wendy ~ with my almost two years old poetry advisor, who loves her Sunday rituals, an extra sabbath, of waffles and Shrek, kid’s gym and artistic endeavors, cozying up with Nana and siblings in a big old bed, snacking and chewing on the good silk sheets as always, she and and I go off to have an intellectual conversation, letting the older ones to do kid stuff, while we converse and debate topics of nature vs. nurture, the weather vs. climate change, and the future of everything, unbeknownst to everyone else which is greater, love or honor, she inquires, sensing my thoughts are preoccupied with matters of honor... as she strokes my itchy, scratchy day old face, insuring her having my full attention, while taking advantage of my loving weakness grandpa: honor over everything my opening gambit, while she coyly harrumphs in response, one can love without reason for such are our natural souls programmed, but honor needs concentration and contemplation, and if done right, then love will surely follow! She-Woman: ah ha! once again you sidle up to nurture, cause love is too inexplicable, old man, old man, did I not love you before any season of reason crossed my brow, and my vocabulary consisted of just more, no, toy and hungry what did I know of Aristotle, logic, codes of conduct, the definition of honor yet abstract, while love is nature’s illogical construct, coming first without restrictions, while honor is malleable and property of the eye of the beholder grandpa: wise beyond your tears, you are, and unquestionably correct, but while coming first, love cannot last, until cover-coated with honor, for honor gives us the because, and locks down the why, honor gives the insight, the rationale, the rules of how to say yes and no, when love is tendered and an R.S.V.P. is requested She-Woman: absent experience, for now will concede, but be warned this is not over, fo you have not brought me a definition of what truly honor be grandpa: honor is the housing of love, and though you granted me your favor, comes the day that you will demand proofs that what was unearthed & unearned is now earned, a course in credit, a baccalaureate in life’s lanes, when to heed them, when to crossover, when to say I do, I do, no to someone else alone, and yes to your honorable self She-Woman: adult double speak, I suspect, and you will rue the day when forced to concede, with a wrenched ‘child, I do not know,’ meanwhile change my diaper after I karate chop your knee Grandpa: yes child, but know,  two of your requests/notifications are honorable acts and/know real love can be ONLY be exchanged tween honorable humans
Continue reading...
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Look Feel Sequence Ratios Forming the spiral Beauty found well within nature Conscious and unconscious patterns forming everywhere Support and resistance levels formed around fear and greed of people in markets
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Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC
Easy as 1,1,2,3
I'm trading tender for splendor: The loss of sweat, not-so-tragic. I'll build up my blisters for whispers: Spells recited in habit. Dollars can buy what I seek: It doesn't take many to have it. The strange, the odd, the mystique: The flowers painted by rabbits. The song played by the beach: The harp without hands to grab it. Nature has cradled my needs: The order created by savage. We pay for all of these things: Even chance has stated this adage. I know this from my own beliefs: The months living as addict. They blurred, and flew on the wings: My "needs" growing emphatic. The basement was surely my feet: My mind, alone in the attic. The empty, the holes, the replete: Filled, trading my money for magic.
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Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 11:36 PM UTC
Trading My Money For Magic
Cooking beneath the shell The meat of my thoughts Like a hermit crab The boiling of my dreams Escaping as high-pressure steam Through tiny fissures In dye-shifting armor I never opened up I never bent or broke and never cracked But now is never All I have, I’m giving back Plug your ears To the deafening screams That no amount of heating Can make edible You are the hardness of my shell Omnipresent and Incredible
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Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 9:26 AM UTC
Isolation
I am not as beautiful As my ice cold heart, Which glimmers each time We experience pain. But I will not waver Because they say I belong in a fortress To hide this outer shell And this soul that crawls within me. I would dream of endless nightmares In which I obtain the beauty like My callous heart But then I would realize I would Loose those who are special. And don't care if I am a goddess Or human.
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Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 12:14 AM UTC
Untitled