Tropical hell is too small, so you have to fight again and again for a place in the sun. With competitors, with dicks and even with nature itself. At fourteen you are already a warrior, and at twenty-five they can be called an old man - they live quickly here and die even faster. They say that sometimes the silhouettes of black ships glide overhead in the night skies, from where they watch the swarming of ants below with indifference or even disgust. Some believe that these are the inventions of dreamers, but others believe. After all, there must be at least some meaning in all this.