3. A promise to my unfortunate ancestors:

My father worked his ass off as an Air Conditioning Technician. He carried heavy loads until his back was sore, EVERYDAY. He died at age 52.

His father was a butcher (and a partisan). He cut and hung dead meat until his back was sore, EVERYDAY. He died at 69.

My mom’s father was a car mechanic and a bus driver. He worked EVERYDAY fixing OTHER people’s cars and driving them around. He never had much, but was fortunate enough to live a long life. He died 4.5 years ago.

Their fathers and grandfathers weren’t much luckier.

They lived as poor hard labouring peasants in the rural conditions of east Poland.

None of them was an artist, or a philosopher or any of those kinds of stupid privileged jobs.

This post is my promise to them.

Those poor bastards never had the opportunities that I have.

It would be a spit in their face to live a horrible life like they had.

I promise to them, that my life won’t be any close to theirs. My life would be a life of abundance.

By age 30, that’s 3 years and 10 months from now, I’ll have what I want.

In the picture, you can see the driver’s seat of a very nice retro Mercedes. A kind that none of those poor Jewish ancestors of mine could dream of having.

This is a promise to them and to me.

For my 30th birthday I’m gonna buy that car, and not by lifting any weight or any of that blue collar shit.

But, by making arthouse films.

Those who are close to me know that I keep my promises kept.

See you in 3 years and 10 months.

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