Working late...again.
New York was fun.
Drank alot.
Ate alot.
Had no sex.
Thought about sex.
Wished for sex.
Made jokes about sex.
Still...had no sex.
Working late...again.
The End

MELONCHOLY AND ITS EFFECTS ON HUMANITY

(mel' en-kol' e) n. Sadness or depression of the spirit.
(hyoo-man' i-te) n. The quality, condition or fact of being human.

It is my personal opinion that all humans are, was or will be, at one time in his or her life sad and or depressed. I also feel it's considered healthy to have these feelings of depression and sadness purely to make the happy moments in life more appreciated when these moments occur. The weather channel said it best in their 1995-97 ad campaign when a disturbed patron of the Forecast Lounge stated to an unhappy civilian who said he hated the rain..."How can you appreciate the sun if you don't have the rain."
Conclusion–Depression is natural. Sadness is my friend.

Example #1: Saturday, September 20, 2003.
The night began with my feelings centered and well in place. I wasn't too happy, but I wasn't too sad either. I had a show. A show I was looking forward to, but when the day came, I really didn't care anymore. Why I feel this way sometimes, I do not know.
So I got to the show. Set up. Ate a burger from the large menu. And proceeded to fall into a state of meloncholy that I had know idea where it came from. Maybe it was the combination of an undercooked Kelleys burger and a half bag of Twizzlers I ate on the way to the show.
Mmmm...I love twizzlers.
Anyway, I began to feel perplexed, bored, uninterested, and bloated. I spent most of the evening walking around trying to find a comfortable place to relax and unwind. Unfortunately no place could be found. So, I went to K-Mart. I went to K-mart because I needed contact solution and gum. I like gum. And I chew it alot. Particulary Wrigley's Eclipse in peppermint flavor.
Upon my return to the bar, I still felt un-easy. I tried to mingle and chat with the fellow bar mates, but still wasn't comfortable. I then tried drinking. Nothing alcholic, but some good old tap water. Tasty, delicious, flourifide tap water. This did nothing for me but add to my bloated and meloncholic state of life.
Finally, it came to me...POO!
I had to poo!
So I sprinted to the Kelley's restroom.
DAMN!!!
No Lock!
What do I do, what do I do?
Upon discussing matters with a fellow band mate, Shawn suggests a trip to Dominick's.
BRILLIANT!
So I immediately ask J to tag along. He agrees and we begin our journey. Upon entering our freindly neighborhood Dominicks I inform J my initial purpose for such a venture. Taken aback to my situtaion, he gladly simpothized my situation and assisted with my search for the restroom. After minutes of a useless search I buckeled and asked an associate in charge of "facing" aisle 7 (health and beauty). She gladly pointed me into the appropriate direction. "Go down the frozen foods, through the double black doors, make a right and there's the restroom. Thank god, relief was moments away.
As I scurried to the mens room I found myself roaming through the back room of the Lansing Dominicks. For the average person, a grocery stockroom is unchartered territory. An area that you often wondered was like growing up as child. Memories of workers pushing pallettes of merchandise in and out of metal swing doors came to mind. I always wondered what went on in the confines of a supermarket stockroom.
My conclusion: it stunk. Like a sea of dead meat and spoiled vegatables. Dirty walls, stained floors, and one of the ugliest mexicans I have ever seen. Wearing a white, blood stained apron holding an axe and what appeared to be a femor but was probably just a chicken bone. Either way I had to poo but I think he just scared the shit out of me!
Actually, I'm just kidding. The only mexican in that back room was me and I wouldn't go as far to say I'm that ugly, just not all that appealing. Anyway, I found the bathroom and tried to shit, but nothing came out. Nothing came out!
Freeze...backtrack: let's go back 10 minutes to my first discussion of my journy with J to Dominicks. As we left JJ Kelleys, I found the stroll in the brisk night breeze to be exhilorating and relaxing. As I began to decompress from the stresses of my personal life, I found every part of my body loosen up and calm down. Suddenly, I let out a most relieving fart. "GAS!"
I just had gas. Yep, that was it. I continued my journey to Dominicks in fear my gas may be followed up by a sudden turd burp. But fortunately, the tunnels were clear.
Gas had made me sad. It wasn't fear, it wasn't loneliness. It was gas.

Final thesis: when life has got you down. Fart, you'll feel alot better once you let it out.

Outdone by a white man.
For those of you who have frequented my blog, or who have just begun to, "J", my fellow bandmate, has now created his own blog.
My current fear: his blog will be better than mine.
Conclusion: of course it will.
Allow me to say something about J.
J is one of those guys who is generally intelligent.
I, Sergio Torres, a college graduate and professional copywriter, find myself smart enough to get by with every day life.
J on the other hand has one year of college education and knows more facts, vocabulary and useless information than I ever will.
This is why he is my mortal enemy.
Like Machiavelli said, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."
To read J's new blog simply click the link on the side.
Ciao

Well it's been a while since I've blogged. I guess I haven't really had much to say. Things have been pretty crazy for me lately. I've been working late everyday and flying back and forth to New York. I have to go there two times next week plus they wanted me to work Saturday. It sucks being over worked like this. Not to mention the fact that I'm salary. All this overtime and I don't get a single dime for my time.
I actually get to leave at a decent time today. But tomorrow is going to be another busy day. I can't take much more of this. I mean I've had to work overtime before, that's what you deal with when you work in advertising. But what makes this so much worse is that the client nor the VPs upstairs appreciate or respect any of the work that I do, that anyone on the Linens'n Things team does. We honestly can say we are treated like slaves. I hate corporate politics. I wish I wasn't so dependent on money. I wish I didn't care. But I am and I do.
The band is going very well. We finally got a website up. It's www.romansranfaster.com.
I think J did a real good job on it. I didn't think it would be nearly as nice as it is. We'll still have to get more pictures in there and add a link to this website of mine. I am also thinking about starting another blog or creating a completely different website for me to keep up on my own. I'll have to figure things out when I have more free time. As for right now I'm completely swamped.
The good thing going on in my life is that I've started working out again. That makes me very happy because working out is definately a good way for me to get all of my stress out. I mean the band helps get my creativity out, but sometimes that can be stressful as well. Anyway, it's getting pretty late and this blog is getting a little too long to were it's almost boring...too late.
Oh well, have a nice day everyone.
Later!

Feeling really down right now.
Work pains me.
I have nothing to look forward to.
I'm sore.
Worked out on monday.
Need to get back into a groove.
I need hope.

So this is what its come down to.
This. (currently staring at my computer screen)
I hate my job. I hate my life.
Sometimes, I feel like i hate me.
So this is it.
This is what it comes down to.
I think it’s time for me to go.
I don’t want to play anymore.
I don’t feel like trying anymore.
I’ve tried long enough. I’ve given all I can give. Or should i say all I want to give. Which wasn’t much to begin with.
I don’t think I’m gonna make it. I don’t think I feel like trying anymore.
I wish there was a better way. An easier way.
It would be wonderful to have everything handed to me. Complete. Wholesome. Pure. Untouched. Unharmed.
I wish for a world of complete laziness. Because I’m lazy. Or at least I want to be.
I don’t want to think anymore. I don’t want to worry anymore.
The minutes are ticking away right now. As we speak. As I write. As you read.
Let me think. How many seconds have I lost doing nothing constructive. How many minutes have I lost being completely useless. How many hours have slipped away with me being completely wasteful.
I don’t have the time to spare to determine what those figures would be. But I’m sure they’re alot.
It’s late right now
And I’m at work waiting. Wasting more minutes doing nothing constructive. Waiting for some pages to be proofread and edited so we can send them to the client.
It’s 8 o’clock at night and I’m still working.
I want to give up. I want to not try anymore. But I do.
And I’m sure I will tomorrow too.