The Stock Market

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The screaming was clogging up my ears. Arguing back and forth, no matter the volume. It seemed like there would never be an end. The problem was so big, with so much frustration and disappointment tied up in it. Always about losing money, always about whose fault it was. I couldn’t take it. The biting words opened up a scary reality. A dangerous poison had seeped underneath my skin. The poison of the…Stock Market….

Walking up the tall streets of Manhattan, I’m surrounded by men and women, all walking briskly with briefcases and suits. Their thoughts are clouded with the Stock Market. Constantly on their cell phones, all their conversations all seem to include the words ‘money, interest rates, stocks, mutual funds…” They come home and teach their children about margin buying, but forget to read them a story. Exchange traded funds mean more than their spouses. These people can become so absorbed with the Stock Market, that they become fat, balding tired, relentless old men, or depressed, divorced, regretting, alcoholic women. They forget about living, and only about money. Instead of finding happiness through family, maybe traveling or a hobby, they find happiness through the Nasdaq. Sitting in front of the computer, watching the Dow Jones, is all they ever do, as everything they’ve ever done hanging by a single decision….

. I’ve hardly got any memories of my parents fighting, even arguing. Thank G-d my family isn’t one of countless others ruined by the effects of failed stocks. But even so, that one huge argument changed a perspective for me. It showed me a reality that I’ve never seen before. The reality of all those people with their noses in news papers on the subways have to face. The reality of the Stock Market, and how getting confused in it can end with a lot less happiness than predicted. I’m not praying anymore for the Stock Market to go up. That’s it. I'm finished.





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