Edward✝️🇺🇸

I have to admit, I am pretty excited to have Helene Meisler @Chartfest1 on the FACE show next Wednesday, April 15th at 8:30am ET. Probably one of the best market technicians I know, and I highly respect. Don't miss it, just register here: forexanalytix.zoom.us/webinar/regist… @forexanalytix

@AdamMancini4 I've said it before and I'll say it again; if you're not signed up for the newsletter what are you doing. 1 simple MES pays for the subscription w/ a few ticks.

We are into mid-day chop in #ES_F but its good intraday conditions *as long as you take profits lvl to lvl as warned 30min ago*. 6593 reclaims trigger long as posed with 6604 1st target (hit), 6622. We hit 6618 then dipped 93 must reclaim to re-trigger. 67 (watch trap), 53 below

This is for my Dear President, @realDonaldTrump, and I come to you in utmost humility and honor. Because I care, because I am involved, because I still love. 1 of 2 There are few things more humiliating than the quiet realization that you were not deceived, you believed. We stood there Mr President, didn’t we? With you, not as spectators, but as participants. In the cold, in the dark, shoulder to shoulder with friends, with family, making the case, persuading the hesitant, defending the indefensible at times, because we thought we were witnessing the birth of something rare. Not perfection, no, we were far too intelligent for that fantasy. But rupture. A clean, unapologetic break from the tired, perfumed decay of Deep State Washington. “MAGA”, such a simple arrangement of letters, and yet for us, it was almost liturgical. Was like a spirit, it lived in our souls. A communion of restless Americans, bound not by blind loyalty, but by a shared exhaustion and a stubborn, almost irrational hope that the arc could still bend back toward sanity. In churches, we prayed, we supplicated Mr President, not for dominance, but for restoration. For a moral recalibration. For God to be more than a ceremonial afterthought in the affairs of our nation that once invoked Him with sincerity. And then, you arrived, walked down that escalator with the First Lady, God, we saw hope. A man audacious enough to challenge the sacred cows. To drag the ghosts of Iraq War back into the light. Chastising Marco, Jeb, Graham and even McCain for their foreign policy positions and ruining the Middle East. You stood tough, to dismantle the polished mediocrity of men who had made careers out of saying nothing with remarkable confidence. We watched you do it. We felt it. And like moths, no, like believers, we drew closer. But belief, I’ve found, is a currency rarely refunded. Because what stands before us now is not a renaissance, It is a distortion. But what have we gotten now? Heavens forbid, I am so ashamed to say it. Americans fly to Turkey for $3,000 dental implants that cost more than $40,000 in Manhattan. They drive to Tijuana for $800 MRIs priced at $12,000 in Los Angeles. Medical tourism revenue hit $100 billion globally in 2023 while US healthcare spending broke $4.5 trillion. Insurances premiums are up in the skies, medical health bills is bankrupting Americans from works of life. Not because the care is scarce here. But because the system has been captured. Ah yes, capture. Such an elegant word for something so grotesque. Industries that were meant to serve now dictate. Prices untethered from reason. Lives negotiated like contracts. And somewhere in the shadows, the architects of past horrors, the untouchables, the unindicted, continue their quiet procession through freedom, as though consequence itself had been repealed. We were promised disruption. Instead, we’ve been handed continuity draped in different language. And the wars, how could we forget the wars? We were told the era of reckless intervention would end. That the Middle East would no longer be a theater for recycled ambition and manufactured necessity. And yet, here we are again, watching the machinery hum back to life, more funded, more emboldened, more insatiable than ever. Trillions for conflict. Pennies for collapse at home. Bridges decay. Roads fracture. Young Americans begin their lives already indebted to a future they cannot afford. Healthcare becomes a negotiation with despair. And still, there is always more appetite for war. Tell me, My Dear President @realDonaldTrump does that sound like disruption to you? Or does it feel like absorption? Because somewhere, somewhere between the rallies and the realities, the man we believed in began to echo the very chorus he once condemned. Standing now in quiet alignment with figures he once dismantled, speaking a language he once ridiculed. And that, that is where the wound deepens for me.