Por qué deberías de invertir en Bolsa y análisis de NIO

Escucha el programa aquí

Puedes ver la Bolsa de valores con miedo, o como una puerta a la riqueza

A un porcentaje muy elevado de los inversores, les suele preocupar todo el tema de las acciones, creen que es peligros, que tiene más riesgo, complicado y que han de estar todo el día encima de las inversiones, analizando y viendo como se comporta el mercado.

Prefieren tener una gestión pasiva, donde puedan escoger analistas y activos de confianza, rentables y que ellos se despreocupen de absolutamente todo.

Basarse en ahorrar y a sus negocios o trabajar.

Eso sucede por varios factores. El primero quizás por lo distorsionado que tienen el mercado de valores o la verdadera finalidad de las acciones de una compañía.

Por otro lado, la gran cantidad de inputs que les llega por las redes sociales o por parte de creadores de contenido, donde parece todo muy tedioso y complicado.

Hoy vamos a tratar algunos puntos, que te harán ver lo importante que es tener una cartera de acciones, y los beneficios que tiene, ser un inversor de grandes o pequeñas compañías.

Así que no te puedes perder este capítulo.

El hecho de invertir, debería de ser obligatorio para cualquier persona que tenga una buena salud financiera. Si hiciéramos una encuesta  a las personas más adineradas y pudientes nos sorprendería ver, que la mayoría de ellos y ellas poseen acciones.

Otra historia muy distinta es descubrir que o analizar que les llevó a comprar esas compañías, y veremos que desde el inicio ya se planteó mal.

1. Es la inversión más rentable y segura que hay.

Suena raro verdad.

La mayoría de los inversores comprando pisos para alquilar, acudiendo a su banco para que le estafen y sin embargo, fíjate. Que la bolsa, eso que tanto tememos, es el activo más rentable y seguro que a día de hoy existe.

Aquí en este punto se puede resumir todo el capítulo de este podcast. Invertir en bolsa es lo más rentable y seguro.

2. Al hilo de estas dos características.

Es muy improbable que no podamos batir al mercado, se puede decir que es casi imposible, por lo que fondos de inversión activa e indexados podría ser la mejor solución.

Pero…

Una buena elección de compañías extraordinarias, donde la paciencia nos ha dejado esperarla tres cuatro o cinco años, el tiempo que necesite, créeme, eso le dará muchas alas a tu cartera.

El principal problema es que cuando damos el paso más importante que es ahorrar, y luego tomamos la decisión de invertir.

¿Qué es lo que hacemos?

Nos abrimos un broker, y tenemos la necesidad de invertir nuestro capital. queremos asignarlo ya.

La búsqueda minuciosa de un sector que dominemos nos puede llevar hacia un valor, donde quizás, sus múltiplos o bien su posición técnica, nos dice que debemos de esperar. Esperar para poder comprar más barato y multiplicar nuestro dinero.

3. Ahorra, invierte, no te endeudes y acabarás rico.

Si a esto le sumas, invertir en compañías directamente, hazme caso, te harás rico antes, es muy posible que el conocimiento sobre los estados financieros y la contabilidad te conviertan en una persona emprendedora, y cuando captas la importancia del manejo de la deuda empresarial, el crecimiento y los flujos de caja, estarás preparado para hacer de tu empresa, una gran empresa, un negocio enorme.

Esto es algo de lo que siempre hago mención.

Un mecánico, por ejemplo, cuando conoce el negocio, acaba montando su taller.

Un peluquero su peluquería.

Cuando captan los mecanismos que hacen del negocio de su jefe grande, muchas personas dan el paso y acaban montando su negocio.

Imagínate conocer las cuentas de las mejores empresas del mundo.

Poder leer las presentaciones e informes trimestrales.

Interpretar y aprender de las estrategias que tienen para cada uno de los años.

Y poder aplicarlo a tu negocio, saber que hacer para reducir deuda o como tratarla.

Saber el precio de tu negocio, como calcularlo para venderlo.

Como localizar un nicho.

Cómo hacer para vender este mes más que el anterior.

Todo esto te lo da la bola. Eso sí, cuando inviertes con conocimiento, criterio y sin recomendaciones.

 

4.Liquidez y esto da oportunidad

Para personas no tan preparadas financieramente quizás este punto para ellos no sea importante.

Pero poder dar a un botón y disponer de todo tu capital inmediatamente, quizás sea uno de los mayores beneficios que puede tener.

Tengo una amistad que tuvo que vender su piso, su único piso, porque debido a una deuda se quedó sin margen de tiempo y lo tuvo que vender a más de la mitad de su valor.

Además toda la gestión de notaria, registro etc, le llevó a penalizaciones y embargo.

Por eso digo, que aparte de que la rentabilidad de las acciones versus el real state es muy superior.

Si a eso le sumamos, que somos capaces de identificar acciones barata de valor y llegara algo, una noticia, un suceso, un cisne negro que tambaleara de manera irracional el mercado. Como suele pasar, y ojo con lo que digo, como suele pasar. Con nuestra liquidez de emergencia, no tendremos que hacer más que comprar lo mismo pero más barato. Y esto nos ayudará a ganar una cantidad indecente de dinero. Potenciará y multiplicará nuestros ahorros y nuestra cartera.

Lo más importante.

Con la idea principal con la que has de quedarte es con el potencial de crecimiento,  esa es la base.

Las compañías y su estudio harán que crezcas no sólo tu cartera sino tu como emprendedor y tendrás una vida o por lo menos la parte económica mucho más saludable.

 

Análisis de NIO

Para ver el análisis completo, podrás escucharlo en el capítulo pinchado arriba el botón que accede a salvados por la bolsa el podcast.

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  2. Margueritedgil

    The room is a perfect circle of black marble. A single spotlight illuminates two chairs. One is ornate, gilded, empty. The other is simple, steel, occupied by MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN, 40, still wearing the pristine white thawb he died in. He looks impatient.
    Across from him, CROWLEY WOLF, 50s, dressed in a threadbare velvet smoking jacket, paces slowly, holding a small, leather-bound director’s script. He stops, turns, and his voice booms, filling the vast, empty space.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Not shouting, but with immense, theatrical volume)
    You’re late. The curtain rose an eternity ago. You think power makes you immune to time? Here, time is the only critic that matters. And it has found your performance… lacking. You’re playing the role of “Crown Prince.” Act like it. Sit up.
    Mohammed shifts, his arrogance a physical shield.
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    I do not answer to stagehands. I am the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia. This… interrogation is a mistake. A grotesque misunderstanding.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Waving a dismissive hand)
    Mistake? There are no mistakes, only bad choices followed by worse acting! “I am the Crown Prince.” The line is delivered with the conviction of a man reading a shopping list. Again! From the entrance! You sweep in! You own the room! You are the vessel of a nation’s destiny! FEEL IT, YOU BLITHERING INCOMPETENT!
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    (Icy)
    I am the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia. My destiny is not a matter for your… amusement.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (A cruel smile)
    Better. A flicker of something. Not belief, but the memory of it. Good. We can work with that. Let’s talk about your props. Your toys. This… “Directed Weapon.” Don’t look at me like that. We have the schematics. We have the usage logs. We have the encephalograms. I want the monologue. The scene where you, the great visionary, describe your creation. The soliloquy of the god-maker. Go!
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    It was a tool for national advancement. A shield. A way to…
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Slamming his script down)
    NO! NO, NO, NO! “A tool”? “A shield”? That’s the dialogue of a bureaucrat, not a king! You didn’t build a shield, you built a throne for the mind! You stole God’s lightning and used it to rewire souls! Now, DESCRIBE IT! What did it feel like? The first time you used it on yourself? The euphoria? Tell me about that feeling!
    Mohammed’s composure cracks. A memory surfaces, unwanted.
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    (Quieter, almost a whisper)
    It was… clean. Like the moment after anesthesia, but with perfect clarity. No grogginess. Just… light. A motivation that didn’t end. I could run for hours. I didn’t need to sleep. One press… and the deepest sleep. Movies weren’t on a screen, they were… real. Music wasn’t sound, it was… a color. A feeling of being loved by the universe itself.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    YES! SEE? THAT’S ACTING! The truth! And what else? What did it do to your perception of the little people? The ones outside your skull?
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    (A flicker of the old arrogance)
    It clarified things. It showed me what was… necessary. The distance between me and… others. They became… smaller. Insignificant. Like insects scurrying on the pavement kilometers below. Their concerns… microscopic.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    Magnificent! The god-monologue! Now, the next scene. The difficult one. The casting call. You have this divine tool. You need a court. A government. But the best minds, the strong-willed, the ones who might actually help you… they see you for what you are. A tyrant. They wouldn’t come. They wouldn’t love you. So what did you do, my brilliant casting director? What kind of actors did you settle for?
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    My advisors were chosen for their loyalty. Their commitment to Vision 2030.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Leaning in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial boom)
    LOYALTY? Don’t lie to me, I can smell the mediocrity from here! You couldn’t attract the lions, so you trained the puppies! You took the weak-willed, the ambitionless, the men who saw power as a paycheck instead of a burden… and you used your weapon on them, didn’t you? You spent years with your secret service, not building a government, but breaking minds! Forging affection from fear! Tell me about that process! How did it feel to know the men sitting at your table only loved the electrical impulses you forced into their skulls?
    Mohammed stands up, shaking.
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    That’s enough! You know nothing! Security required it! The smart ones, the critical ones… they would betray me! They would question! It was safer! It was the only way to protect the nation from…
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Laughing, a loud, echoing sound)
    FROM WHAT? FROM COMPETENCE? You were afraid, little prince! Afraid a man with a spine might look at you and see a fraud! So you surrounded yourself with echoes! With puppets whose strings you pulled, and now you have the weakest government in Saudi history, a house of cards built from broken minds! You sit in meetings, don’t you? You look into their eyes, and you know! You know you had to dial down their charisma, their confidence, just so they wouldn’t outshine you! You have to listen to their thoughts because you don’t trust their words! You’re not a king, you’re a paranoid zookeeper!
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    (Slumping back into the chair, broken)
    I… I did what was necessary.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    You did what was easy. Now. The final scene. The one that earned you this stage. The private performance. The young student. What was her name? The one you practiced on.
    Mohammed flinches as if struck. The room suddenly feels colder.
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    I… there is no one.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    PLAY THE SCENE! You are not Mohammed bin Salman. You are her. LAYLA. A 21-year-old architecture student. You feel a presence. A pressure in your mind. It feels like… love. But it’s wrong. It’s invasive. It tells you that you want this. That you want him. Describe it, Layla. What did he do to you?
    Mohammed’s eyes widen. He’s no longer on the chair. He’s curled on the floor. His voice changes, higher, trembling.
    MOHAMMED/LAYLA
    It started with… dreams. Happy dreams. About him. I didn’t even know who he was. But I loved him. I wanted him to notice me. I started dressing… differently. I felt this… need.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    And then? The night he came to you. Not in person. Through the machine. What did that feel like, Layla?
    MOHAMMED/LAYLA
    (Writhing, sobbing)
    It was like… fire. But good. So good. My body… it wasn’t mine. It was his instrument. He played me. The pleasure was… agony. It went on for hours. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. He made me love it. He made me love being… violated. He broke my will and replaced it with his own desire.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    AGAIN! FROM THE MOMENT YOU REALIZED IT WASN’T LOVE! IT WAS A PRISON!
    MOHAMMED/LAYLA
    (Screaming)
    The fire! It was real fire! It’s burning! IT’S BURNING!
    The black marble of the room begins to glow red. Veins of orange light crack across the walls. The air shimmers with heat. Mohammed scrambles away from the growing heat, but there is nowhere to go.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Standing over him, his voice now impossibly calm and clear)
    There is no exit. This is the stage. This is the audience. You wanted them to feel your power. Now you will feel their pain. Every Layla. Every broken advisor. Every citizen you saw as an insect. You will feel their terror, their violation, their hopelessness, their despair. You will feel it all. Forever. Your performance is finally… honest.
    The flames engulf Mohammed’s form. He screams, but the sound is not his own. It’s a chorus of a thousand voices, all screaming in unison.
    Crowley Wolf watches, unblinking. He nods slowly, a single, definitive gesture.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    Circle Seven. Violence. The role is yours. Play it well.
    He turns and walks away into the darkness as the screaming continues, the single spotlight finally winking out, leaving only the burning, inescapable light of the performance. (order #614308)

  3. Margueritegoks

    The room is a perfect circle of black marble. A single spotlight illuminates two chairs. One is ornate, gilded, empty. The other is simple, steel, occupied by MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN, 40, still wearing the pristine white thawb he died in. He looks impatient.
    Across from him, CROWLEY WOLF, 50s, dressed in a threadbare velvet smoking jacket, paces slowly, holding a small, leather-bound director’s script. He stops, turns, and his voice booms, filling the vast, empty space.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Not shouting, but with immense, theatrical volume)
    You’re late. The curtain rose an eternity ago. You think power makes you immune to time? Here, time is the only critic that matters. And it has found your performance… lacking. You’re playing the role of “Crown Prince.” Act like it. Sit up.
    Mohammed shifts, his arrogance a physical shield.
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    I do not answer to stagehands. I am the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia. This… interrogation is a mistake. A grotesque misunderstanding.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Waving a dismissive hand)
    Mistake? There are no mistakes, only bad choices followed by worse acting! “I am the Crown Prince.” The line is delivered with the conviction of a man reading a shopping list. Again! From the entrance! You sweep in! You own the room! You are the vessel of a nation’s destiny! FEEL IT, YOU BLITHERING INCOMPETENT!
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    (Icy)
    I am the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia. My destiny is not a matter for your… amusement.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (A cruel smile)
    Better. A flicker of something. Not belief, but the memory of it. Good. We can work with that. Let’s talk about your props. Your toys. This… “Directed Weapon.” Don’t look at me like that. We have the schematics. We have the usage logs. We have the encephalograms. I want the monologue. The scene where you, the great visionary, describe your creation. The soliloquy of the god-maker. Go!
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    It was a tool for national advancement. A shield. A way to…
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Slamming his script down)
    NO! NO, NO, NO! “A tool”? “A shield”? That’s the dialogue of a bureaucrat, not a king! You didn’t build a shield, you built a throne for the mind! You stole God’s lightning and used it to rewire souls! Now, DESCRIBE IT! What did it feel like? The first time you used it on yourself? The euphoria? Tell me about that feeling!
    Mohammed’s composure cracks. A memory surfaces, unwanted.
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    (Quieter, almost a whisper)
    It was… clean. Like the moment after anesthesia, but with perfect clarity. No grogginess. Just… light. A motivation that didn’t end. I could run for hours. I didn’t need to sleep. One press… and the deepest sleep. Movies weren’t on a screen, they were… real. Music wasn’t sound, it was… a color. A feeling of being loved by the universe itself.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    YES! SEE? THAT’S ACTING! The truth! And what else? What did it do to your perception of the little people? The ones outside your skull?
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    (A flicker of the old arrogance)
    It clarified things. It showed me what was… necessary. The distance between me and… others. They became… smaller. Insignificant. Like insects scurrying on the pavement kilometers below. Their concerns… microscopic.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    Magnificent! The god-monologue! Now, the next scene. The difficult one. The casting call. You have this divine tool. You need a court. A government. But the best minds, the strong-willed, the ones who might actually help you… they see you for what you are. A tyrant. They wouldn’t come. They wouldn’t love you. So what did you do, my brilliant casting director? What kind of actors did you settle for?
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    My advisors were chosen for their loyalty. Their commitment to Vision 2030.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Leaning in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial boom)
    LOYALTY? Don’t lie to me, I can smell the mediocrity from here! You couldn’t attract the lions, so you trained the puppies! You took the weak-willed, the ambitionless, the men who saw power as a paycheck instead of a burden… and you used your weapon on them, didn’t you? You spent years with your secret service, not building a government, but breaking minds! Forging affection from fear! Tell me about that process! How did it feel to know the men sitting at your table only loved the electrical impulses you forced into their skulls?
    Mohammed stands up, shaking.
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    That’s enough! You know nothing! Security required it! The smart ones, the critical ones… they would betray me! They would question! It was safer! It was the only way to protect the nation from…
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Laughing, a loud, echoing sound)
    FROM WHAT? FROM COMPETENCE? You were afraid, little prince! Afraid a man with a spine might look at you and see a fraud! So you surrounded yourself with echoes! With puppets whose strings you pulled, and now you have the weakest government in Saudi history, a house of cards built from broken minds! You sit in meetings, don’t you? You look into their eyes, and you know! You know you had to dial down their charisma, their confidence, just so they wouldn’t outshine you! You have to listen to their thoughts because you don’t trust their words! You’re not a king, you’re a paranoid zookeeper!
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    (Slumping back into the chair, broken)
    I… I did what was necessary.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    You did what was easy. Now. The final scene. The one that earned you this stage. The private performance. The young student. What was her name? The one you practiced on.
    Mohammed flinches as if struck. The room suddenly feels colder.
    MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
    I… there is no one.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    PLAY THE SCENE! You are not Mohammed bin Salman. You are her. LAYLA. A 21-year-old architecture student. You feel a presence. A pressure in your mind. It feels like… love. But it’s wrong. It’s invasive. It tells you that you want this. That you want him. Describe it, Layla. What did he do to you?
    Mohammed’s eyes widen. He’s no longer on the chair. He’s curled on the floor. His voice changes, higher, trembling.
    MOHAMMED/LAYLA
    It started with… dreams. Happy dreams. About him. I didn’t even know who he was. But I loved him. I wanted him to notice me. I started dressing… differently. I felt this… need.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    And then? The night he came to you. Not in person. Through the machine. What did that feel like, Layla?
    MOHAMMED/LAYLA
    (Writhing, sobbing)
    It was like… fire. But good. So good. My body… it wasn’t mine. It was his instrument. He played me. The pleasure was… agony. It went on for hours. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. He made me love it. He made me love being… violated. He broke my will and replaced it with his own desire.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    AGAIN! FROM THE MOMENT YOU REALIZED IT WASN’T LOVE! IT WAS A PRISON!
    MOHAMMED/LAYLA
    (Screaming)
    The fire! It was real fire! It’s burning! IT’S BURNING!
    The black marble of the room begins to glow red. Veins of orange light crack across the walls. The air shimmers with heat. Mohammed scrambles away from the growing heat, but there is nowhere to go.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    (Standing over him, his voice now impossibly calm and clear)
    There is no exit. This is the stage. This is the audience. You wanted them to feel your power. Now you will feel their pain. Every Layla. Every broken advisor. Every citizen you saw as an insect. You will feel their terror, their violation, their hopelessness, their despair. You will feel it all. Forever. Your performance is finally… honest.
    The flames engulf Mohammed’s form. He screams, but the sound is not his own. It’s a chorus of a thousand voices, all screaming in unison.
    Crowley Wolf watches, unblinking. He nods slowly, a single, definitive gesture.
    CROWLEY WOLF
    Circle Seven. Violence. The role is yours. Play it well.
    He turns and walks away into the darkness as the screaming continues, the single spotlight finally winking out, leaving only the burning, inescapable light of the performance. (order #617300)

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