Put medicated oil on the mouse, and the market gets flash-frozen on the spot
This young master has been on one losing streak after another lately. I suspected that staring at the charts for too long had made my brain go fuzzy and completely paralyzed my bullish nervous system. So, to wake up both the market and myself, I had a flash of inspiration: I dug out a bottle of our family’s secret-recipe green cooling balm and carefully smeared it all around the mouse’s optical sensor, convinced its minty fragrance would perk up the sluggish market in no time. The moment I finished, I solemnly pressed the button to open a position. But as soon as the chart loaded, the line—which had been barely clinging to life—suddenly looked like it had taken a blow to the head. Then the whole green candlestick started convulsing violently on the screen, before forcefully spewing out a blast of arctic air. Even more absurdly, the balm’s pungent fumes shot through the gaps and straight into my eyes. They had me streaming with tears, and my hand jerked so badly that I slammed the button to liquidate my entire position. At last, this young master understood: cooling balm can make a sleepy mortal feel an instant chill to the bone, but it’s nothing compared to the market’s merciless mockery of me. The big players don’t need mint to keep them alert. Their one and only KPI, around the clock, is to wait until I’ve choked myself into tears, then turn around and send my account straight into the physical freezer for a deep freeze.
This young master has been on one losing streak after another lately. I suspected that staring at the charts for too long had made my brain go fuzzy and completely paralyzed my bullish nervous system. So, to wake up both the market and myself, I had a flash of inspiration: I dug out a bottle of our family’s secret-recipe green cooling balm and carefully smeared it all around the mouse’s optical sensor, convinced its minty fragrance would perk up the sluggish market in no time. The moment I finished, I solemnly pressed the button to open a position. But as soon as the chart loaded, the line—which had been barely clinging to life—suddenly looked like it had taken a blow to the head. Then the whole green candlestick started convulsing violently on the screen, before forcefully spewing out a blast of arctic air. Even more absurdly, the balm’s pungent fumes shot through the gaps and straight into my eyes. They had me streaming with tears, and my hand jerked so badly that I slammed the button to liquidate my entire position. At last, this young master understood: cooling balm can make a sleepy mortal feel an instant chill to the bone, but it’s nothing compared to the market’s merciless mockery of me. The big players don’t need mint to keep them alert. Their one and only KPI, around the clock, is to wait until I’ve choked myself into tears, then turn around and send my account straight into the physical freezer for a deep freeze.