So I was an only child, living almost by myself in a fifty room mansion, raised from birth by a bunch of different Filipino nannies, each one lasting from a few weeks to under a year. I was barely knowing my own parents, who never wanted me around. Anyway, as I remember, they were either drunk or phased out or away at any given time. From age six, I was sent to a series of boarding schools. The kind you only come back from twice a year. I was expelled from three places before age twelve, mostly because I routinely performed various acts of self affirmation involving other people's blood. No problem; my caring parents would always find me another, often rougher, always farther located place where to dump me. Always places I had to travel to by plane, always by myself, under the gentile care of some stewardess. Just like that, I got to attend schools in Switzerland, then Australia, South Africa, Argentina and Russia. Before age eighteen, I was already fluent in six languages, and got to learn how to run and fight for my own life. At age eighteen, on my very birthday, I was summoned by the man I knew as my father. He gave me an envelope. Inside were a yellow piece of paper marked with a phone number, a hundred new bills marked one hundred dollars each, a plane ticket to Geneva, the keys and property title to a small apartment in Geneva, the keys and property title to a small car parked just beside, as well as the paperwork related to a Swiss bank account under my name with two million dollars on it. That was it. I was told this was all I'd get from them parents until they pass, so help me god. Also, I was to never contact any family member under any circumstance for the rest of my life, otherwise I'd never inherit anything from them. Great, thanks man.
So I was on my own, with a startup package. I gathered a few essentials, then flew to Geneva, as instructed. I spent the next six months clueless and hangover, watching TV or trying to figure out what to do, barely stepping out there. A few friends came to visit me, some brought drugs... Then, one day, I woke up with a plan, just like that. Looking at my past, some things stood out: I often found trouble, or trouble found me, and in most things, I was my own man, an independent thinker and doer. My plan became to use what I had as a stepping stone to something greater. So I started to ask around, and found that for a young foreign national without higher education like me, most open opportunities involved informal economy. So I purchased some cocaine and started to serve local bars. I soon became a person of the night, catering to anyone interested, while trying to avoid local mafias. It became very complicated, so I ended up deserting the bar scene, and soon transitioned to the budding rave scene. It was 1994 when I organised my first rave party, in an abandoned shoe factory, and instantly knew I had found my thing. After haunting Switzerland's night life for nearly twelve years, I moved to America's West Coast, sitting on ten times what my father first gave me.
This is when I decided to invest my money in tech startups. Moving from the dot com downfall, the tech world was gaining traction again, with opportunities blooming everywhere. My initial investment went to a well-known recovering personal computer giant, just before the inception of what was to become its greatest product, a so-called smartphone. This was my first act as an emerging venture capitalist, on my way to becoming many times a billionaire. I soon had money in everything growing: social medias, hardware, software, cloud computing, blockchain crypto, and at the dawn of the pandemic, I got to invest in large language models and AI startups. I was in a position where I tought I'd never have to rely on any inheritance money. Little did I knew.