Augie Bloom is Dead

Augie Bloom is Dead

I know how you feel. You feel dead. A smothering feeling of nothing, of darkness and cold, and no one inside you. Sometimes there is only a hollow sound where your heart is supposed to be, and your fingers are freezing and blue, your stomach is empty, your brain is bumping and all sticky and the wind is blowing through your skin as was it made of sand. Your soul is disappearing into the valley of the shadows and your mind has gone into insanity. The world is not falling apart in front of your eyes – YOU are falling apart in front of the world. There is nothing left of you, only a little dirt and some dreadful possessions which you once valued when you were still alive.

It is all gone now. The memories of you will fade away like a raindrop in the ocean, and forever you will hear a voice call a name, but never yours.

That’s how I feel right now. I feel dead, a deadly fate has hit me again and again ‘til I have turned blue and yellow. My head is ticking, my feet are swinging and my eyes are popping. I don’t have any cause in life nor have I any life, because what is left of me is not of any value.

I am not real.

My face is gone in the mirror every morning I look in it. My eyes are vanished – only I see more clearly than ever. I see a monster hiding in the shadows. Only the electric light softens my skin in the cold and breezing evenings. I do not dare to step out into the sun light; a dark shadow is haunting me wherever I set my feet. I can not work among human beings; alongside their hopes and joy, alongside their inferred minds and sympathies. My few hopes of redemption, whether it is from God or man, are hanging in a string so thin that a louse could break it. No one cares, no one knows, no one loves.

My name is Augie Bloom, and I am dead.

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