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FLAN

COMPORTAMENTARIO: DAYS, JUST DAYS.

Posted on November 6, 2012 by Flan

And when Monday comes, don’t forget to slip your sunglasses back on. Unlike Friday or Saturday, Sunday is a day for dreaming. Friday and Saturday are game nights: you meet your friends to play the eternal game of rewriting your personal histories by overlapping old faces with new ones. Time to meet people fast, mix up, chat, flirt, get drunk, randomly kiss each other and roll confusedly in some stranger’s bed. Sunday is a day of relaxation and meditation but since you are still imbued in alcohol fumes, you are swept away by a mix of fresh feelings collapsing with memories that have definitely passed their expiry date. That’s why you quickly rush yourself into distraction, text your friends, make unnecessary calls, write to that loyal old friend you always forget to reply to, you even waste time checking plots of new TV series you know you will never watch. And you are so committed to get as far as possible from those impending emotions, provoked by the tingling of your revived senses, that you fall in the today-everything-is-possible mood and clumsily throw yourself in that reassuring space that is the virtual world. At some point, you are even so close to booking amazing flights you cannot afford, and throwing money into an evening online course, and finally buying that longed-for sewing machine. It’s a day for a meticulous planning of your week, it is a feverishly optimistic kind of day, driven by a this-year-I’ll-be-better kind of mood, you are absolutely sure that this time your week will be different, you will exercise more, you will finally get organized, you will write and clean the house an hour a day. In that order precisely. Your euphoria can even bring you to think that this week you will become famous, write that book you’ve been thinking about for ages, change city, find the perfect home. And all the euphoria of Sunday raises from the absolute certitude reflected in the rigid firmness of your attitude that you are finally able to meet new men and not fall in love. And your firm and happy until you get the call that you were sure you would not get. You are not the only one that is still excited or drunk from the night before, your new acquaintance is euphoric and in adventurous mood. And off the texts start to flow building for you the perfect romantic trap. You slip again but not so hard this time, you are a little wiser by now and you know that this new love will end up soon with the arrival of Monday and everyday disturbances. You are not scared anymore of that warm and sharp breeze that soothes and electrifies, make the Tiber ripple, the seagulls scream at dawn, the moon stare at you sternly. By now, you have learned to let yourself go, you know it is simply a matter of short time and it will be Friday again and you will fall gleefully and trustfully in Rome’s renewed and still bewildering embrace.