We hate you.
You opened your arms wide, welcomed and embraced us with accented love.
But it’s all a ruse. And we won’t fall for it. Because we hate Cannes. After all, we have to. We must.
Surrounding us are thousands of hungry egos, all trying to climb that hill to get to the top where the Drogas, Serpas, and Clows drink expensed Rose – squeezed from the grapes we bottom feeders planted and picked.
And these egos, these bottom dwellers, they’re our enemies.
Sure, we laugh with them. Drink with them. Learn with them. Befriend them.
Even kiss some of them on La Croisette.
But we have to keep our distance. Our guard must and will not go down.
Because when that time comes, and it will, we’ll have to step over them to get to a place where we can do great work, influential work. So one day, we can build our very own vineyards, much like those of the Drogas, Serpas, Clows, etc.
After all, that’s why we’re in this game.
To become the best we can be.
To drastically impact the game that we love so much our way.
To build something that changes the status quo.
And we want it to be us that does exactly that.
Not our peers.
Because we believe that we can do it better.
That it’s our destiny.
And we can’t forget that.
We love you.
But really, we hate you.