pulpfiction

When you're forty-seven, you live alone, and there are several million dollars sitting in your brokerage account, you start to suspect that God does exist after all. He just has a strange sense of humor.
Jack Lawson was exactly that kind of man.
He started with three thousand dollars, borrowed from his ex-wife. Five years later, he had two million eight hundred thousand. He traded Bitcoin, Ether, and anything that could rise forty percent in a day and then, the next day, act like it had never heard of him.

When you have no money, you know exactly how much life costs. Five dollars is beer and a pack of cigarettes. Ten dollars—you can buy meat. Forty dollars—that’s already cause for celebration. And if you have a hundred and twenty left on your card, you start to feel almost rich and walk home so you don’t spend three dollars on a cab.