this was happening now, in front of my very eyes, and I understood that history teaches nothing. Retrospection and prior experience was all in vain. Only animal instinct, perhaps, might save you sometimes – the instinct and nothing else… I sat for hours in front of the monitor, grinding my teeth, holding my head in my hands, and thinking, thinking! Next I just looked indifferently, whistling something off-tune. And then I didn’t even look anymore; I lounged in my armchair with my chin on my chest, afraid to move lest it become even worse.
Once again I realized: the aura of Indigo does not save and does not protect. It can become a magic carpet, turn into seven-league boots or a heavy cross – but it’s not a guardian angel to deflect troubles with its thin hand. A girl with a searching glance and her toy frog will not appear at the first call – or the second, or the third either. Nobody will come at all: with blind forces you’re always one-on-one.
Having lost almost half of my investment, I finally believed the market was seriously rising against me. This, in a strange way, almost calmed me down; I regained the ability to reason soundly. Soon I got rid of the shaking in my hands and began to take the right steps.
First of all, I shut myself off from outside opinions. The voices of all slackers, fool analysts, arrogant soothsayers of the hour – they did not exist for me any longer. I tossed dubious calculations and indicator charts into a far corner. I now only took in the main facts every day – just those, and the price fluctuations. I did not take my eyes away from the streaming quotes and blinking digits. My head was spinning; my concentration was extreme. I grew gaunt, slept little, wandered around the apartment like a sleepwalker without turning on the light. The telephone was silent. The whole house was silent. In the entire world, there was no sound for me. I remembered only that tomorrow would come, and the daily watch would commence anew: watching and listening to myself – listening, listening…
Then, finally, something moved; my own vibrations began to resonate with the vibrations of the market. In the din of the exchanges, in the confused chorus from the innumerable multitude of strings I began to sense the obvious dominants. The abstruse voice pounded my ears, drawing its melody from the market’s bowels. At times it soared to the highest note – which was a cry of fear. Then, on the contrary, it would drop down – seething with human greed. Only those two forces reigned there – whimsically switching places with each other, snatching the palm branch of primacy and a laurel wreath from each other’s hands.
I began to draw totally different schemes, of the sort that would not smooth out any peak. In my notebook appeared the strangest of mosaics – Peano Lines and Von Koch Islands, Sierpinski Arrows and Cantor Dust. Carefully, meticulously, I probed various scales – from minutes to months and years. I sought hints and traces of order, and I marked similarities, signs of symmetry. Soon I noticed that I was not surprised anymore by sudden jumps. They were not sudden; they were explainable. Not all of them, of course, and not always, but the vast majority, anyway. I realized a breakthrough had occurred, and the only thing keeping me from taking a decisive step was my memory of recent losses. This was my personal fear, and greed did not feed into it: I did not know greed, just as I don’t know it now. That’s why it was surmountable, and I overcame it, forcing myself to take risks again. I risked and won; then risked again and won again. After that, I shut down the computer and left for the sea – to wander along the shore, breathe in the salt air and get my nerves in order.
The money came back to me quickly – during the next couple of weeks. I wanted to leave the market alone, but something pushed me to continue – a feeling of incompleteness, a desire for verification. The
Once again I realized: the aura of Indigo does not save and does not protect. It can become a magic carpet, turn into seven-league boots or a heavy cross – but it’s not a guardian angel to deflect troubles with its thin hand. A girl with a searching glance and her toy frog will not appear at the first call – or the second, or the third either. Nobody will come at all: with blind forces you’re always one-on-one.
Having lost almost half of my investment, I finally believed the market was seriously rising against me. This, in a strange way, almost calmed me down; I regained the ability to reason soundly. Soon I got rid of the shaking in my hands and began to take the right steps.
First of all, I shut myself off from outside opinions. The voices of all slackers, fool analysts, arrogant soothsayers of the hour – they did not exist for me any longer. I tossed dubious calculations and indicator charts into a far corner. I now only took in the main facts every day – just those, and the price fluctuations. I did not take my eyes away from the streaming quotes and blinking digits. My head was spinning; my concentration was extreme. I grew gaunt, slept little, wandered around the apartment like a sleepwalker without turning on the light. The telephone was silent. The whole house was silent. In the entire world, there was no sound for me. I remembered only that tomorrow would come, and the daily watch would commence anew: watching and listening to myself – listening, listening…
Then, finally, something moved; my own vibrations began to resonate with the vibrations of the market. In the din of the exchanges, in the confused chorus from the innumerable multitude of strings I began to sense the obvious dominants. The abstruse voice pounded my ears, drawing its melody from the market’s bowels. At times it soared to the highest note – which was a cry of fear. Then, on the contrary, it would drop down – seething with human greed. Only those two forces reigned there – whimsically switching places with each other, snatching the palm branch of primacy and a laurel wreath from each other’s hands.
I began to draw totally different schemes, of the sort that would not smooth out any peak. In my notebook appeared the strangest of mosaics – Peano Lines and Von Koch Islands, Sierpinski Arrows and Cantor Dust. Carefully, meticulously, I probed various scales – from minutes to months and years. I sought hints and traces of order, and I marked similarities, signs of symmetry. Soon I noticed that I was not surprised anymore by sudden jumps. They were not sudden; they were explainable. Not all of them, of course, and not always, but the vast majority, anyway. I realized a breakthrough had occurred, and the only thing keeping me from taking a decisive step was my memory of recent losses. This was my personal fear, and greed did not feed into it: I did not know greed, just as I don’t know it now. That’s why it was surmountable, and I overcame it, forcing myself to take risks again. I risked and won; then risked again and won again. After that, I shut down the computer and left for the sea – to wander along the shore, breathe in the salt air and get my nerves in order.
The money came back to me quickly – during the next couple of weeks. I wanted to leave the market alone, but something pushed me to continue – a feeling of incompleteness, a desire for verification. The
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