This morning, after feeling my oats by CEMENTING a 20 for 20 winning streak, I dove headlong into the mortgage space, errantly. I did so with a God like complex, chest filled with hubris — only to be quickly dispatched out and over a barrel. The newly minted positions quickly began to take on water. Now a novice trader, like you, would hold and feel and feel some more — but I knew if shit went sideways tomorrow, all of my efforts, all of my feeeeeeeeelings, would be hurt miserably. So I sold and began the hunt.
The results.
(ALLY -3.7%)
(TEX -3.4%)
(MITT -6.3%)
(IVR -4.2%)
(MFA -2.2%)
(RWT -1.4%)
Rounding errors.
I then had a bias of selling short, since I was wrong about my picks — my god the entire market must be collapsed. WRONG AGAIN. I found strength overtly concentrated in mega cap tech, SAAS, utilities, gold, and healthcare.
That’s where I am positioned now. I do so in spite of my feelings. I wanted to sell short and burn the world down for ruining my winning streak. It was going to last forever and I was going to come on here and boast and attract so many new members for Exodus — the fucking servers would crash permanently and I’d have to call the national guard to get it back up and running again. Maybe next time. There’s always next time, right?
So now I toil and I watch, BIG ASSED CASH position, eagerly eager to wait for a trend shift so that I can apply bearish positions and look smarter than everyone else again, instead of riding in the bus with everyone else.
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