What to say about us?

It's Friday night and while I zap through TV channels, Paulo bites some humid soft chips. We're both under thirty, and this is the way we live this closure that we were put into. We try to keep frustration away with sips of mediocre Nigerian beer.

"Hey, let it in FashionTV", Paulo asked. I accepted, but after two minutes I protested: "Right, the girls are nice, but this is a bit boring", to what he answered "yeah, but the girls are nice".

Just five minutes after he was sleeping on the sofa. I went up the stairs and I let myself fall on the bed: the fatigue of a week passed in the mixing tower, assisted by the lack of permission to leave the compound, threw me into bed.