Who is Pants?

And why does he think he can't fail?

Hello my friends, this is pretty all over the place, disorganized, timeline might be a bit messed up, but I had a feeling I should write so here we are. Just going to ramble and spit out whatever my subconscious gives me so if by the end of it you think I am a nutcase, so be it.

I won’t tell you who I am, I will tell you my story, and who I am can be decided by you.

When I was born, my parents were in mountains of credit card debt, my parents took to Dave Ramsey of course, and ended up filing for bankruptcy, and began building up out of that hole.

They worked all the time, my mother was a nurse and my father worked in restaurants until he became a conductor and later a dispatcher (trains). I was constantly taken care of by babysitters/nannies (shoutout Katie the goat).

All I fucking ate was peanut butter sandwiches and mac and cheese with hotdogs (still a goated meal btw) which explains now why I fucking hate peanut butter sandwiches.

I found solace in soccer, and because of this, my only friends were the mexican kids across the street because they were ‘outcasts’ like me, I was extremely short, played a sport none of the white kids cared about, at least where I went to school.

I specifically remember thinking “As long as I have this ball, I don’t need any money or anything else” I thought I’d become a professional soccer player, which I really could have and still think I could now (this is how delusionally I believe in myself), I was actually really fucking good for an American. Even got called up to travel to different states playing for the “Olympic Development Program”

Well eventually my mother decided she was sick of leaving her kids to be raised by other people, she was sick of nursing, I began having issues with anxiety and depression, sad all the time, began going to therapy. I just wanted my mom.

She started doing anything and everything to be her own boss, firstly with photography which really got her a good start, she began making enough money to quit working and was a photographer full time.

This got her quite a nice start of a following on Instagram and from there she began selling products, over time she began making decent money.

We eventually moved to a nicer area, I was probably 11 or 12, and I was NOT happy. I wanted to continue playing soccer all day long with my friends, there was a park right across the street and there wasn’t any friends or any way to play as easily where we were moving, although I did join a club team.

I eventually made new friends, played soccer a bit less and got more into video games as thats what my friends were into. They told me about a game called fortnite and you know how that story goes lol.

Given we were making more money, my parents were able to be around a lot, take me to practices and games, buy me anything I needed or wanted, they had freedom, we all had freedom, and before, there weren’t much of a choice of anything. They just had to do what they had to do because ‘wants’ were out of the question.

I slowly overtime realized, it’s not all about me. Sure, I didn’t care about anything other than that damn soccer ball, so I was happy enough, I was fine, but I wasn’t the one paying bills and trying to survive while raising three accident children.

So then I began to see how this all works. Money buys choices, freedom, opportunity for yourself and others, money can help people. My mom actually begun sponsoring these two children in Africa, they send us pictures and tell us what they’re learning at church, still to this day. We’ve watched them grow up and without my mother they’d be much worse off.

I began to realize the truth. In this world, with the rules determined by the people before me, money buys freedom, and being free makes it easier to be happy.

I watched the transition not just in myself but particularly my parents, they were happier, less angry, my dad stopped throwing shit at walls. They had their heads above water.

So I knew both worlds, I saw both worlds, and I continued to see the extent of this truth as my mom paid off houses, purchased more reliable cars, became a millionaire, then a multi millionaire, then eight figures, bought my dad a gun-shop for him to have his own business.

I saw it was possible. You really can do anything you put your mind to. Everyone says this but I don’t think people believe it until they see it first-hand or do it first-hand.

Due to the culture of the ‘nice’ and ‘rich’ school I had moved to, they began making me want to participate in soccer less and less, forcing me to do things by their rules, play their way, I was talented, I was a player whom you don’t fuck with the design of. I enjoyed my club team immensely because the coaches and my teammates knew this, they improved upon my design, they didn’t try to change it.

So then I began playing video games more and more, that was my new love. I was addicted to it, I wanted to be the best just as I had when I focused on soccer. I treated it like a sport, I practiced, I DID video games, I didn’t play them, I was honing a skill, I wanted to make money doing this shit forever.

Then covid hit, and I had such a huge opportunity to play video games all fucking day and night, I was sleeping like 3 hours a day, playing video games all night, going to work with my dad in the morning, spending every dime I made on those videogames and my gaming set-up and such.

I had always been interested in stocks and investing, I liked the Wolf of Wall Street and I thought the people who worked on Wall Street were super fucking cool, in their fresh suits and nice watches, driving their nice cars to work, making and moving shit loads of money like it was nothing.

The GME and WSB thing happened, I got to watch the euphoric cycle occur while I was actually conscious of it. I saw how much money regular people could make, I didn’t have to go work on wall street in an office and study for years at Kelley to do this. I could do it from my home.

So I told my mom about my interest in it and she loaded me up a custodial account with $100 with TD Ameritrade. I was probably 15 or 16 at this point.

The first trade I made I certainly lost money lol, then I had a great idea of something to buy low and sell high later.

I put the rest in russian rubles…

Thank god she only gave me $100.

So eventually that “trade” just got locked up because as you know, there is a fucking war over there. Never going to see that money again.

So then I went back to playing video-games again. (The name Pants was my gamertag, that’s where my name comes from)

Later on, I think Senior year, so now I am 17/18, I had to make the big choice of what I was going to study in college.

For my whole life people asked me “what do you want to be when you grow up” and the answer every single time was “I don’t know”

I don’t fucking know what my dream job is because I don’t dream of having a job, I dream of traveling and seeing things and eating food and interacting with people of different cultures and living life. I didn’t want to spend 50 years in an office surrounded by other people who have no grand ambition, I wanted to be free.

So I decided I would be an exploratory student, allowing me to take a few different classes, my favorite being philosophy which catalyzed my spirituality and helped with my mental health, I am no longer depressed or anxious, and I would never kill myself.

Freshman year of college I opened a robinhood account and began taking my first trades and investing in random tickers, bought nvda at $400 pre split, sold it for $800.

I realized that this was really a thing I liked, it was like printing money, if I made the right decisions I could do whatever I want, report to nobody, and make that money wherever I am in the world.

So I began taking it seriously, starting with forex of course because that’s what those gurus always sell to people like me. Began learning about price action and technical analysis, bought books like Market Wizards and Best Loser Wins.

I spent the entirety of my freshman year, going to class, ignoring everything that was happening, just watching videos and trying to learn as much as I possibly could.

Obviously, I decided not to re-enroll, I liked cooking enough to pay my bills with it, and figured if I don’t want a job, I shouldn’t keep wasting my time and my parents money going to school.

I decided I’d be a trader, do or die, I’ll be a full time trader or I’ll be stuck in kitchens forever, that is a choice I comfortably made, and have to make every single day when I wake up to go into that hellish furnace that is the kitchen.

And so that is what I did, and have been doing, for these last couple years since 2023 when I graduated high-school.

And although I am nowhere near the point of being able to do this full time, I have learned a lot, I think I am doing well, I am proud of myself, I am thankful for the endless help and support and criticism and advice from people I’ve found on X, that has really catalyzed my growth.

I really don’t think I can fail, i’m like a fucking fly or a gnat or a cockroach, I just won’t fucking stop, I can’t give up, it’s not in me, “my heart just ain’t gonna buy it” as Frank Sinatra said.

If I somehow got liquidated, I’d start again, I was born into parents who were beyond liquidated, and they fucking did it. Rags to riches.

I can move back into my mother’s basement any time I need to, I can start from 0 again and again. I will never ever fucking tap out, you must kill me.

It’s one of the few certainties I have, I will not ever fucking give up.

I will PERSIST INDEFINITELY, I will be bruised, smashed, beaten, but for some reason within me, I just can’t fucking let myself be stopped, I can’t quit. I can’t give up. And to me, failure is when you stop persisting, when you give up, when you throw in the towel.

I can’t fail. I won’t. I refuse to.