I remember when I opened my first bank account. I felt a kind of a privilege, just as a child feels when doing “grown-up” things for the first time, mixed with an uncomfortable feeling of mistrust and surrender to a controlled from “above” world. Whilst my civil servant parents were comfortably indebted – which I didn’t know – I was keenly saving what little money I had – I thought it was a lot – every decision concerning it brought huge emotional burden and confusion. A visit to the bank meant blindly signing papers in the same way players’ place bets at a casino. Until very recently, making a internet bank transfer sometimes caused me to compulsively and repeatedly check the numbers until I lost confidence in my own eye sight… Like most people, I was a slave to money and I was destined to be poor – which is independent of the amount of wealth. This is what happens when money mixes with blood.