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What else do you have to say about me that the world needs to know? Of all the things you could choose to say, it has to be those that decays my bloom.

When in my pillow, you whisper, “You’re lovely, you’re lovely.”

The House of Z

Disclaimer: What I may say here is how I see things as is. The House of Z is filled with mystery simply because very few gains access to such a restricted world, yet every body wants their secrets. There are rumours surrounding every one’s personality, capability, and true identity. What I know is simply one version of the truth.

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Mad laughter. That’s how I see them from afar. Mad laughter while they parade with their gains and how they reign superior. It was but normal to feel a little hatred. Hatred towards their mad laughter as they mock me with their capabilities.

Now that I have a closer look, I have sooner realized that the laughter wasn’t that of mocking.

It was the sound of people who knew how to play the game.
And have fun dominating it.


What type of people would willingly beg for and fight for a slot to be taught by someone they have not seen or have not met?

They can only be the very desperate. This is where it all starts. It starts with the reek of desperate fighters. Those who are willing to give it one last chance, at any price necessary.

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Once you understand this level of need will you finally understand who these people are, and why the most broken becomes one of the very best.

Every one starts already humbled by the market. The biggest challenge is asking them to forget. Those who can not control their emotions beyond their losses are put on hold. Those who can not forget are asked to regain control of their life elsewhere.

And then, the process begins. Tabula Rasa.

 

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A Cup of Tea

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.

Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor’s cup full, and then kept on pouring.

The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. “It is overfull. No more will go in!”

“Like this cup,” Nan-in said, “you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”

They had to learn how to be unemotional as fast as they can, because the moment they sign in, even before they regain what they lost… the house member finds out that he needs to give.

Give even before his hands are holding anything for himself.

His subasta are for charity drives. He is asked to promise to pay back the universe what has been given to him– food on his table, roof over his head, family sleeping quietly next to him.

For simply being the 1% who understood the market, and for what is to come.


Money is no longer what money meant to The Core as it used to be. Money used to subtly mean the things you desire to have.

Money is now a way of keeping score. It’s now a game they efficiently play. In and out, gain and lose, again and again and again. Who made the most money? Who was the best player in this bloody war?

That’s where the maniacal laughter I heard before came from.

I didn’t understand it because their money meant differently to me. Their gains meant my stupidity and foolishness, that’s why I was hurt. But to them, it’s just a way of keeping score. Who made more? Who made more?

And again and again, the more they gain, the more they gave away. That must be why they kept getting more.


 

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The ZFT or what I fondly call the Members of the House are ladies and gentlemen, skilled, capable, unemotional.

They hide behind masks to remain in control. They show you what they can do without you judging who they are, where they came from, or what they intend to do. It’s another way of decentering the stock market from the trader. With their mask, all we could measure them from is their skills. We are limited to that perspective.

And that’s how it really must be. After all, does it matter what else they are if they can show you results?

Would it matter if the member of the house is 15 or 50? Man or woman?
It does not.

Maybe we tend to find them unreal because their capabilities are unreal. I had to swallow my ego to accept the truth: Just because I couldn’t do it, that doesn’t mean some else can not.


They were trained to survive as brothers but hunt as lonewolves. If someone in the group made a mistake, every body had to re-train.

They must not bring home the same kill.

Finally allowed out in the real world, the ZFT members do not attack as a syndicate. Each and every one has their own play but they bring home what lesson they learned.

The system, therefore, is not a cookie cutter rule book that either fits or does not. It grows like a child as every member of The House continues to contribute, nurture, better it and eventually perfect it according to their needs.


Zee received a letter that day. He was already in the middle of an overwhelming schedule and had felt the need to ‘escape’ a few times now. It was probably one of the saddest letter he had, and he was torn.

The man had lost 4/5 of his capital in trading and was unfortunately diagnosed with an illness too early to come for his age.

Zee wanted to help but he knew he was up against the odds of a man who fought within himself. “What would you do?”, he asked the rest of The House.

Someone volunteered that he would teach him some basic lessons– around 2 to be precise, another insisted 2 lessons was not be enough and The House must make measures to reach more people, someone stepped in and said they must focus on his emotions and support system first as the man had sounded depleted and depressed, another member answered that he could be mentored from afar but not as a part of The House. The reactions were all sympathetic. They’ve seen this before, they could have been at that stage as well.

Finally, a member of The Core group spoke and said that this man’s problem is not in his knowledge but in his execution. The problem was the mindset. The Captain, in my opinion, was right.

From what I’ve heard from the Master of The House, the Captain has one of the sharpest minds and could easily see between the lines.

There were no more replies after that and in a few days, Zee posted what had happened of the man.

He was merrily on his way to emotional recovery with his lovely wife’s support.

I have no doubts that this man will make it. I await his inevitable success.


During one of the slow days in the market, one of the Core remarked to The House to buy a stock. He was on his usual troll mode. That’s the thing, you never really know with these people. Even their identity towards one another was a secret.

Nobody responded and he started laughing like a madman. Another member laughed back at him, “ZFT are immune to hypes.”

That stock flew a few days later but I can’t be certain if other ZFT members were able to ride.

That’s how it goes. Not your playbook, not your play. Which is fine, because I’m pretty sure the other members of The House are out making a killing elsewhere.


 

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They belong to the same pack but they hunt alone. The ZFT will protect its own. When a young one makes a mistake, expect The House to not tolerate. They will punish him and deal with him but every victory will be celebrated in double.

This part I dedicate to S: He who found a threat to my identity but made immediate measures to keep me protected. I am grateful. You are also the reason I named my blog this way. After my first writing, you shared it and said, “We’re all rooting for you.”


You can not fool the mask. You can not catch the ghost behind it. If you must believe that they are all the same people, then you may.

The House of Z is, after all, of one soul.

I bow down to the masters of the trade.

Respectfully yours,

Celeste

About The Man with the Mask: ZeeFreaks, Master of the House

All men must serve.

I was not a part of ZFT. I lived in my own bubble overseeing the existence of different realms. I watched him too, along with the many others. Some I know intimately, some I grazed with light touch.

In the stock market, different realities existed. They live, thrive, destroy, coincide with each other. I glided all over them. Watching patiently. Understanding what they all stood for.

And then, after a particularly desperate moment, I broke my equilibrium and dove down the waters.

It hasn’t been a long time since his realm and mine kissed.

I can still remember it clearly.

ZF was a thing of mystery to me. He had a certain level of angst that I did not understand, and as my naivety drove me towards embracing chaos, it took me a while to realize that this was not how it should be. The chaos was created afterwards, when debris and destruction was left to be fed to us.

For their benefit. For their entertainment.

The entire truth was, I was blinded for a moment by people who had nothing but their names to back up what they have to say– to shush you when you wonder. Questions are not entertained. There was one answer to our every question: his name, his name, his name.

I wondered for a long time, how could I trust a nameless, faceless person in a realm of zero-sum game?

This was the question that played on my mind as I doubted… and watched. And watched.
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I took my time watching, all the while nursing my wounds from the chaos I had to endure. Sit down, Celeste. Do not raise your hand in question.

But slowly, I was starting to wake up. The band of people, all nameless, all faceless, was a slap in the face of the gurus’ ‘honesty’. Because why am I hurting here? When there seems to be another way?

The only mystery was their faces, not in their game. From where I was, the mystery was the game, not the faces. And their faces did not give me results. In fact, I was one of those first in line to get hit.

First in line to defend. Deep inside, I couldn’t help but question. Why am I here?

And who are the ZFT? How did they know I was going to lose even before I entered? How did we enter the same stock, but I came out losing?
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I judged him as a dark character before I knew him. He laughed at those fools who remained blinded. He was both angry and mocking… Fools like me.

Fools like me.

And I had a lot of pride for a girl.
Pride never paid well in the market, we get punished for our mistakes so very dearly.
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I dove into the water and held my breath. Finally making that move, I was dancing carefully around him.

C: I know you’re capable, the market was blood red, but you still walk around in victory.
Z: How can I help?

And that was that question.
I never really realized that he wanted to help.
That I was a nameless, faceless person too– and my doubts about him could be his same doubts about me.

In the end, between us, he had more to lose than I ever did.
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A strange friendship developed between me and Zee. I had a better glimpse of the mysterious world he ran. There was a cacophony of different people with dark humor that you would only understand once your eyes are opened.

Every body stripped off of their ego.

Each and every one as wounded as I am.

But it was a basin filled with people who fell down and got back up again.
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I now understand his anger. I finally understood every thing once I saw the letters he receive on an every day basis.

People on the verge of suicide, people crying as they ask for help, people who held on to their losses, people who stopped eating for days. Hype victims. Retirement money. Life savings. House money.

All gone.

Help me, Zee. Help me, Zee. Help me.

If you saw the amount of people bleeding in front of him, there will be fire building in your hearts, waiting to explode on the influential people who drove those people broken this way.

I only saw the surface. I only saw the anger.

I didn’t see the bodies below. Letter after letter, people begged to be saved. “I have millions lost.” “My husband will never forgive me.” “This was supposed to be for my retirement, I lived 30 years abroad. Now all lost.”

The world weighed on his shoulders.
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Respectfully yours,

Celeste

 

 

P.S.

This is Part 1. Part 2 of the write-up will be more about the tribe or as I would rather call it– The House of Z.

The First Trade

I’ve made my first three trades. Equipped with a few things I’ve learned the past few weeks, I decided I need to stop paralyzing myself.

I reasoned for a while that I can’t do it yet. I have no plan, but at some point it sounded like a lie. I know people thriving at current market conditions, no matter the blood bath.

I have no system of finding stocks yet. How the other players screen their kill, I don’t know how. There seems to be a disparity in learning technical analysis and learning how to trade. One must live harmoniously with the other. I may be able to understand a bit more about MAs, but how do I bloody find the good ones?

What I did was rather crude. I kept squeezing my brain for stocks i’ve heard about the past few days. Clues are always there. You just have to know which ones are quietly performing and only a select number of people have taken a liking for.

I have a confession: Hyped stocks scare me. Like a rabid dog to water, I writhe in pain at the idea of playing with the noise. I don’t have the necessary confidence yet to go to war with better soldiers, as I am, like you all know, freshly risen from the depths of my hell.

The first trade I made is LTG.

LTG

This is how it looked when I was looking at it. I said, oh, good. The candles rest atop the 20 MA. The way I look at it is like this: If my candles sit or are above the MAs, they have more power to perform because they have their support. MAs are life lines. They belong to royalty.

DISCLAIMER: This is just how I like to call it. It’s originally called Alignment of The Stars by ZeeFreaks.

20 SMA is the Door man, once he comes across my candles and once my candles have his support, I can expect better manpower. In time, with friendship, he will next introduce me to 50 SMA, which is the Queen, and then the next is 100 SMA- the KING.

The Royal Guards must be able to support you. The Doorman, first in line, the Queen… and then the King.

Looking at LTG that day, the stock was supported by 20 SMA– or the Doorman for quite a while now, and recently the candles have met the Queen. The King has finally crossed path with it too. The formation was about to happen. Doorman, Queen, King.

The moment I saw this, I was in a blinded frenzy. Oh I remember my glee. I remember feeling quite like a genius. Good job, good job I said. It was further cemented with seeing the weekly price chart of sitting on top of the Queen’s support.

How naive.

I bought that day upon opening. Price: 14.78 but I was frozen by my self-esteem. I bid for a small amount. 5000 shares, I said. Just a test money. Just a learning experience.

Funny how a little voice nagged inside my head, ‘5000 shares! well! That won’t seem to do you any profit at all, Celeste.”

So I bid at 14.6. Barat bid. Not really thinking much forward what it would mean if the price touched that. My reason was, that was where the candles would hit the Doorman’s support.

I’ve realized now that the veterans closely watch what candle the price is making and act according to that. This is golden data on where they want it to close.

A few hours later, my bid got hit.

And I struggled to remain happy. My doubts started to creep in. What if the price closes red? Is that okay? What if no one buys up for a better formation? This is the moment I realized I should be cautious about what the price performance does.

I made a rather terrible move.
I looked at the brokers.

Oh, Deutsche and Credit Suisse are with me. Along with a few more brokers I don’t remember. Good, I said. More friends.

Suddenly they started buying up the bids. Buying, buying, buying. I was excited by the move, I didn’t have much time. Oh no! The price is moving up! Oh they’re buying everything! Oh I should have bought more earlier! What a traitorous emotion. I was washed with happiness. I bought 3000 shares more at 14.9.

In the end, the candle closed near the opening price. I have a long weekend to think about it.

By the next day, my conviction already changed.

The things I graded a pass were in fact already dancing along the ley lines of danger.

Ever since the day it broke out, the volume was constantly on the low side. It didn’t matter if it was a red or a green candle.

The RSI at 80. The STS in a tight embrace with the signal line steady above the overbought area.

And the final price candle haunts me. It didn’t look good. That’s when I decided to search what’s it called and what category it belonged to.

bearish_dragonfly_doji

Dragonfly doji– reversal candle.
Usually reverses the trend… and the trend was an uptrend.

Dragonfly DOji
Makes you want to suddenly pray, doesn’t it? 🙂

 

I lightly told a good friend that I bought LTG. My friend, a veteran trader, looked at me straight in the eyes and said, “It’s too expensive now!”. I lied and said, “No volume, just trying out a system.”

“No volume ha?”

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The 1st of December, I was tired from work and I didn’t wake up early enough to sell upon opening.

I woke up in panic.
My heart hammered. God no please! My money! I ran to my laptop and expected the worst…

But there it was–
A gain. The market was green. Bull trading day. My worries melted but the tempation grew. Maybe it would continue its uptrend? Oh dear.

Stick to your plan, Celeste.

2% gain– and I sold. This must be discipline, something I lost upon seeing a brokerage house buy up the bids. I might be wrong soon, maybe I shouldn’t have sold. Will I regret this?

No one ever got broke taking profit right? But we’ll see.

The stock market is a test, and often times you don’t know when you’re right or wrong until about a few days later on.

This concludes my first. Feel free to write me a letter. I hope your trades went well.

 

Forever yours,

Celeste

 

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