Tech isn’t just my career path. It’s the lens I see the world through. My name is Okuyat Morgan Jeremiah, and I live at the intersection of technology, programming, science, and financial markets. If you’re here, you probably care about the same things: building useful stuff, understanding how complex systems work, and turning curiosity into real output.
My obsession with tech didn’t start with a computer science degree or a bootcamp. It started with the question “how does this work?” I was the kid who took apart remote controls, not to break them, but to see the PCB traces and understand why pressing a button made a car move. That same impulse drives me today. The tools changed — screwdrivers became IDEs, circuits became APIs — but the core drive is identical: understand the system, then rebuild it better.
Science gave me the framework for that curiosity. Physics taught me that everything follows rules, even when it looks like chaos. The scientific method — observe, hypothesize, test, iterate — isn’t just for labs. It’s how I debug code at 2 AM. It’s how I backtest a trading strategy. It’s how I decide if a new JavaScript framework is worth learning or just hype. Science isn’t a subject to me. It’s a decision-making system.
I speak JavaScript fluently, but languages are just syntax. What I really do is solve problems with logic. I build for the web because the browser is the most universal distribution platform humans have ever created. Write once, run anywhere. My projects live on GitHub because I believe in building in public. Code that stays on a hard drive helps nobody. Code that’s pushed, documented, and shared becomes a conversation.
When I code, I’m thinking in systems. How does data flow from a user click to a Google Sheet row? What happens when 1000 people click at once? Where can this break, and how do I make it fail gracefully? I care about clean code, but I care more about code that works under real conditions. Performance matters. Accessibility matters. Shipping matters. A perfect app that never launches is just a private daydream.
Right now I’m deep into vanilla JavaScript and web fundamentals. Frameworks come and go, but understanding the DOM, async/await, and how browsers actually work — that knowledge compounds. I use GitHub Pages to host because it forces me to understand static sites, CI/CD, and the constraints of serverless architecture. Constraints breed creativity.
Most developers ignore financial markets. Most traders ignore code. I live in both worlds because they’re the same world. A trading chart is just a real-time data visualization problem. A trading strategy is just an algorithm with money on the line. Risk management is just error handling for your bank account.
Forex taught me what no tutorial could: how to make decisions with incomplete information, under pressure, with real consequences. Every candlestick is a story of fear and greed. Every support level is psychology made visible. I don’t trade based on gut feeling. I backtest. I journal. I treat my trading account like production code. You don’t deploy to production without tests, and you don’t risk capital without a plan.
The overlap with programming is wild. Pattern recognition in charts is like pattern recognition in code — you learn to see the bug before it happens. Managing a losing trade is like debugging: you need to be wrong fast, cut losses fast, and not marry your first idea. Sizing a position is like allocating memory: too much and you crash, too little and you never do anything meaningful.
I’m not here to sell you a course or signals. I’m here because markets are the ultimate complex system, and I’m addicted to complex systems. The same brain that enjoys optimizing a `for` loop enjoys optimizing a risk-to-reward ratio.
I don’t separate “tech” from “science”. Technology is just applied science. When I learn a new Web API, I want to know the spec. When I see a market move, I want to know the macro driver. Physics concepts like momentum, inertia, and equilibrium show up in code architecture and in EUR/USD price action. They’re universal patterns.
Data is my second language. I trust data over opinions, including my own. If my code is slow, I profile it. If my strategy loses money, I check the stats. Confirmation bias is the deadliest bug in programming and trading, so I hunt it aggressively. I’d rather be proven wrong by data than feel right based on ego.
This mindset makes me a better builder. I don’t chase shiny frameworks. I ask: what problem does this solve? What’s the trade-off? Every abstraction has a cost. Every line of code is a liability until it proves its value. Science keeps me honest.
This site is my lab notebook. It’s not a polished corporate portfolio — it’s a live document of what I’m learning and shipping. You’ll find:
I build mobile-first because that’s where users are. I build fast because attention is scarce. I build simple because complexity is the enemy of reliability.
I have three rules:
I’m not a guru. I’m a student who documents publicly. I will be wrong, and when I am, I’ll write about why. That’s the point. This site grows as I grow. Version 1 will embarrass version 5, and that’s the goal.
We’re living through a weird moment in history. Anyone with a laptop can build software for millions. Anyone with internet can access global markets. Anyone with curiosity can learn quantum physics on YouTube. The gatekeepers are gone. The only moat left is execution.
I’m betting on builders. People who learn in public, who aren’t afraid to look dumb, who value progress over perfection. If that’s you, we’ll get along. If you want hype, fake screenshots, and “get rich with 3 lines of code” nonsense, close the tab. I’m playing a longer game.
Short term: I’m going deeper on web performance, data structures, and algorithmic thinking. I’m also systematizing my trading to remove emotion from decisions. Code and capital — both need systems.
Long term: I want to build tools at the intersection of education and automation. Things that help other self-taught developers and traders skip the mistakes I made. If I can save someone 100 hours of confusion, that’s a win.
This page will change. I’ll rewrite this intro in 6 months and cringe at this version. That means I’m learning. I hope you stick around for the updates.
If you made it this far, thank you. Seriously. Attention is the most valuable thing you can give someone in 2026. I don’t take it lightly.