[Copypasta] You toss and turn as Elon gently rubs your shoulders

You toss and turn as Elon gently rubs your shoulders. "You seem a little tense" says Elon, as you look at your bank account. Your phone shows $107 left to your name. You think to yourself while Elon rubs you down, you pull open Robin Hood, type in TSLA. Leaps $900 JAN 2023' are only $1 you can afford 1 leap. This is finally your chance to get rich, you'll be able to actually buy a Tesla. You ask Elon what the next Tesla will be. He says "U, for 'you'" as he smiles sweetly. You picture him dancing on stage explaining U S3XY to everyone multiple times as you smile back at him. All of a sudden Elon flips on the TV to CNBC to catch the tail end of Jim Cramer, you see a new law has been passed, "we believe options have inflated the markets into a bubble, we will be imposing a new rule next week only allowing accounts that qualify for day trades to also purchase options with a $25,000 barrier to entry." You start weeping aloud, you feel a caring hand wipe your tear away, it's Elon again, "what's wrong my little X'√π3?" Suddenly you wake, you're in a pool of sweat, at first you panic about the new options policy, then you're filled with relief realizing that options aren't restricted it was all a dream. You realize this was actually a vision to earn 200,000% gains to buy a TSLA leap. You log into RH, it welcomes you with your $107 balance, you plug in TSLA yolo 2023 @ $900 and realize the options are actually $20 each. The best you can do is $900 TSLA weekly expiring around Christmas. In a slight fit of despair you try to remember the feeling of Elon rubbing your cheek, and rub one out onto your stomach, then roll over back to sleep. A single tear rolls from your eye into your waifu pillow. YOLO you whisper.
December 2020

WallStreetBets

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Unrealized losses

She runs her hand through your thinning hair and laughs. “What?” you ask absentmindedly. You’re looking at Futures, and you’re surprised to see them red. “I want you to play with me.” She says it playfully, but the single ounce of you that isn’t totally aloof realizes she said this in earnest. And so you do. You throw your phone, and you pin her to the sofa, then the ground. You both roll about, wrestling, like lion cubs. Kissing, lightly biting. Sometime later, you both stop, breathing hard. She grabs an open bottle of red wine, and you pass it back and forth. Eventually she says, “I want to do that more.” But you’ve already found your phone again to check Futures. Still red. “Uh huh,” you say, distracted. She stares at you for a long moment, but you don’t realize it. Silently, she gets up and goes to bed, and you don’t say a word because you don’t notice. She hasn’t left you yet, but she will soon. Unrealized losses.
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I am financially ruined

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