Fridays have never ever been treated in a peaceful way as it had inflicted with some mysterious mythical blackish blurts. I don't know why Friday often wept in silence whenever I passed it at that haunted turning of the city's most saddest corners. So I loved Fridays, don't know why, a heartfelt concern that came from nowhere and I blindly pursued it then.
My perception was all my concern and I see no difference in its face, It smiles like every other day, cries, does all mischievous deeds jocularly, runs here and there, makes love for its own sake, caresses its love in its spring times and then dies in the late evenings' chill to wake up when it's turn comes for another time. Now I turned into a new leaf. My Fridays, no blues. Yes it is.