The folks who follow along with my ongoing murmurs over on twitter are some of the finest in the land. They stuck with me through my days as a tin-hatted conspiracy theorist and maintain their following despite my transition to a Tesla cult member.
One thing is they’ve come to expect constant trading from me. Which is fine. I am a rare profiteer amid a mass of needy financial advisors, advisors who are about as familiar with trading for profit as they are courting fast women. Fintwitter is not a place for me. I’ve realized that. Nobody wants to discuss the merits of faithful long-term investing or the meticulous planning that goes into short-term execution. They want to be handed fish, one after another, in the form of wonton ticker selections.
I will have no part in stock picking, stock trading, or any of that fickle behavior. I actively trade one instrument. You would think, after all these years, that would be apparent.
If there is nothing to do than I shall do nothing. It seems to me, from the vantage point of a self-sufficient speculator with over 1,500 square feet of private headspace, that most of yous suck the most at doing nothing.
Doing nothing is an art, and when done well, it allows the universe to whisper its secrets into your ear.
Like sipping tea and staring at the sky, to catch that fleeting winter moment when the sun peaks through and washes over the fan leaves of houseplants, and how that looks. Or the way a lyric from a song seems to leap out of the noise and pierce your soul.
I am of the belief that the universe is constantly communicating with us in a playful way. But only if you listen.
If you are plagued by the hurrying syndrome, ordering your coffee via app to save two minutes of standing in quiet meditation, so caught up in the mental shit storm of thoughts, “am I a good boy?” “will my project reap blessings?” “will I receive the credit I deserve?” “why do my organs hurt so badly?” “am I disappointing my family?” then the likelihood of picking up on these divine messages is low.
So to answer your question, no, I will not resort to chasing momentum stocks or trading a balanced market at all time highs. I am not a monkey sent here to dance for you.
I will instead read fiction, take naps, casually stroll around the grocery market admiring the colorful fruit and in general sashay around town in a manner and dress that would offend most of these overworked Americans I see everywhere.
People think it is easy being a calm, extremely good looking man. And it can be if you go with the flow, realizing that all the racing around, whether as the CEO of a Fortune 500 or a junkie looking for smack, it all ends the same way in a few decades—a pile of dust and bones.
So why rush it?
I am off to perhaps send an email, water some plants, have a nice swim in the lap pool, a lunch and then a nap.
Trade’em well lads, trade’em well.
Raul Santos, December 19th 2019
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I have a black belt in doing nothing.