Stocks, that strange adult thing your dad speaks about every Thanksgiving while you
pretend to check fantasy football numbers. People say things like “invest early,” “diversify
your portfolio,” and “let your money work for you,” which sounds cute until you realize your
money has been out of work for years.
It can be easy to romanticize the stock market when you see advertising featuring young
professionals drinking coffee and “building wealth.” Reality check: it’s more like “refreshing
red charts while quietly questioning your purpose.” Sure, let’s call it “long-term strategy”
instead of hurting yourself emotionally.
So get ready, financially curious chaotic gremlins. It’s time to explain how stocks really work,
since you probably don’t know how to play the most misunderstood game show in capitalism
(you know, before you send Apple another money “for the vibes”).
Owning stocks is like being a small landlord for a business.
A stock is a piece of a corporation that you can own. Let’s start with that. It’s like buying a
piece of the world’s biggest pie and saying you’re a baker now. Companies sell them to get
money for things like expansion, new ideas, or another Super Bowl ad that costs more than
your student loans.
You are theoretically a “owner” of a corporation when you acquire its stock. Not enough to do
anything meaningful, like firing the CEO or suggesting Taco Bell collaborations, but just
enough to get invited to shareholder meetings that you won’t go to.
It’s like democracy in business, but your vote doesn’t count unless you have a lot of money.
It’s still better than having your bank account earn 0.0003% interest.
When you own stocks, you are saying, “I think this company will make more money.” Or, to
be honest, “Everyone on Reddit said this was the way to go, and I didn’t want to miss out.”
There are two major strategies to make money: buy low and sell high. You came up with
capitalism. Good job!
Hold onto dividends and collect them. Also known as “getting paid to wait,” which no one in
our generation gets.
So, sure, you are now technically a member of the business class. Just remember to pay
your $4 coffee bill before you declare yourself an investment.
The Stock Market: A Dramatic Soap Opera for Sadists Who Want to Know About Money
The stock market is like a loud, bright carnival where people make and lose money, and
sometimes memes come to life. It’s like Wall Street meets Jersey Shore, except with more
coffee in Midtown and fewer morals.
Prices of equities vary every second in this market, which is like one enormous auction. The
price goes up when everyone wants Apple. If the CEO tweets anything nasty, the stock price
drops faster than your willpower during a 3 a.m. Taco Bell run.
This market has two main sides:
Bulls are people who think prices will go up because they think being optimistic is cheaper
than therapy. Bears are folks who think everything is doomed because they read one terrible
headline.
The incessant fighting between the two sides makes things unstable, which grownups call
“sheer panic.”
A Wall Street intern is probably crying right now behind Bloomberg terminals, while CNBC
calls it “market uncertainty.”
How It Works: Money Magic and Controlled Chaos
Stocks function because people believe they do. It’s not magic; it’s a group of people who
believe something that isn’t true and maintain records of it.
This is how your money fever dream works:
You buy a share of stock. You’re saying, “I trust this company not to go under.”
The price is established by the market. Millions of traders use algorithms that are faster than
your Wi-Fi to figure out how much anything is worth.
The price is affected by how well the company does (and how much hype there is).
Everything counts or doesn’t, depending on the vibes: profits, earnings, viral tweets, and
litigation.
When you sell, you either gain money or lose it. Paper losses don’t matter unless you like
having emotional breakdowns.
It’s crazy that stocks aren’t even real things anymore. You don’t have anything. It’s merely a
number on an app that shows how much you believe capitalism can make dopamine.
It’s a mix of math, marketing, and light gambling. And Americans embrace it because nothing
says freedom like putting half of your paycheck on the line for the chance to declare, “the
market will bounce back.”
Wall Street: The Club That Doesn’t Want You There
Let’s talk about the big names. If you wear a vest and speak with enough confidence, people
will give you millions. Wall Street brokers, hedge funds, and analysts are all living examples
of this.
These are the people who really run the market. They trade at speeds that your internet can’t
handle, change prices with the emotional precision of a drunk ex, and still term it “market
efficiency.”
Do you like individual investors? You’re merely background actors in their financial Hunger
Games.
But with to applications like Robinhood, Fidelity, and Webull, anyone with Wi-Fi and big
dreams can now get into the stock market. You can get a piece of Amazon while you’re in
line at the drive-thru. Yes, it’s revolutionary, but it’s also a little scary.
You are now part of a global financial system where algorithms sneeze harder than whole
economies as soon as you touch “buy.”
This isn’t investing; it’s fanfiction about economics.
Why Trauma (or Earnings Season) Is the Center of Everything
When corporations reveal how much money they made (or lost) during earnings season, the
market acts like a kid who hasn’t had any medicine.
Good profits? Yay! Everyone is prosperous again! Not enough money? Tweets of panic,
CNBC warnings, and your portfolio crying softly in the corner.
The response doesn’t always make sense. Even if a stock beats forecasts by 200%, it can
still go down because “investors expected more.”
It’s a loop of hurting people that looks like money.
It doesn’t make sense to even the experts. They just use fancy terms like EBITDA, EPS, and
P/E ratios. You nod, act like you understand, and then purchase Chipotle stock because
burritos are more solid than spreadsheets.
Every chart is like a cardiac monitor for capitalism, and let’s be honest, it’s not particularly
rhythmic.
How to Use Stocks to Your Advantage (Without Losing Sleep)
This all seems crazy, and it is. But there are methods to play the game without losing all your
money.
Step one: Don’t trade stocks during brunch. You’re not the Wolf of Wall Street; you’re a
person who pays $17 for toast with avocado on it.
Step two: Choose equities that won’t make you cry. Big, uninteresting businesses usually do
well during things like recessions and bad press. Dog mascots for tech startups? Not likely.
Step three: Being in the market is better than trying to time it. Stop trying to “guess the dip,”
in other words. If you invest for long enough to get through a few crashes, your portfolio will
win in the long run.
Step 4: Spread out. Don’t keep all of your money in one location, unless that area is your
treatment fund.
Step 5: Accept that crashes are a normal part of the grind. People who never check their
balances are the only ones who never lose money. Or are no longer alive.
So… Are stocks just a form of legal gambling?
Yes. But with better lighting and coverage from CNBC.
Casinos have slot machines, but the stock market has analysts in suits who tell you why
your bad decisions can still pay off someday. The house always wins, but in this house, you
can act like you’re in charge.
That’s what makes stocks so addictive. It’s a group chat amongst rationality, ego, greed, and
false hope.
They’ll keep making headlines like “Dow climbs 200 points” no matter what.
“Nasdaq falls after a small global panic.”
“Experts say to stick to your plan.” That’s what experts always say.
The turmoil is comforting. And let’s be honest: you didn’t come here to not play. You came for
the drama, the excitement, and the small chance that you could pay for therapy.
The Punchline (also known as “You’re a Capitalist Now”)
Congrats! You officially know how stocks work if you haven’t checked your portfolio or
Venmo balance yet.
They’re not magic or witchcraft; they’re just a lot of people believing in the same thing. And
maybe a little bit of caffeine-fueled chaos. You buy a piece of the economy, panic for a few
years, and if you don’t sell every time it goes down, you’ll probably earn money. In the end.
Until then, enjoy the freefall, sip your coffee, and reload that app. In this market, your money
isn’t working for you; you’re working for your money’s mood swings.
