I look around me and I see blobs of flesh with extremities and eyes and faces but I don’t perceive them, or categorize them, as people. They speak but their voices never register as words, their thoughts never being articulated – just a continuous flow of sounds diving into the air. They live their life without meaning, and they never feel perplexed by their utter uselessness. I find that everyone I become acquainted with rarely thinks; the soft tissue behind their eyes being just that – soft tissue. The majority of people live their lives as the tissue blobs, never evolving their commiserable existence into humanity. But maybe this is humanity; people who never think, never try to better society, or never try to do anything in general. I sit in the midst of these apathetic creatures contemplating if there is something wrong with me; a skew in my reality. Does anyone possess thoughts that lay congruent to mine? Am I in a realm of philosophical consciousness that no one else is capable of accessing? Maybe I am a schizophrenic, and this is the reality my mind actualized when attempting to repress the white cotton straps that firmly constricted me to a single spring bed. At times, for society’s sake, I wish that was true. How can the mind of a sixteen year old perceive a world that contains billions of people as so abhorrent, and if my perceptions aren’t misconstrued, why do so few people make a noticeable effort? The world is resting on a hazardous precipice and the blobs who are its inhabitants are more than content to fall and scatter their blob like entrails into another deplorable realm and become its bane. With no meaning, no thoughts, no reason, they are mounds of flesh who have been commanded to control a planet suspended in a universe, that is, in theory, infinite. Maybe each planet, or even other universes, contains one type of person. Zortox – the depressed. Unthrar – the mad, etc. And last, and surely least, Earth – the incompetent. Maybe I am misplaced, or maybe I am strategically placed here to make a difference. But how can one teenage girl surrounded by inanimate blobs make a massive difference? I have to voice my thoughts so loudly and pile as much information on these blobs as possible, and when it becomes too ponderous, it will sink into their pores and consume them; making their thoughts words, giving meaning to their existence, and turning them from a blob into a person.
-Hannah
PAZ 
Thank you for taking the time to visit my blog. Your contemplative words bring to mind a lecture by Alex Berzin entitled, “The Two Truths.” I understood him to say that in order for something to be true, there has to be a “yes” to two questions: !) Have I had these defining characteristics since my conception? 2) Is my relationship with all living beings, from your parents to the robin outside your house, limited to and defined by these characteristics?
I really enjoy reading your blog, it’s brilliant. I will be sure to look into the works of Alex Berzin now, thank you for introducing me to something new!
Jean Paul Sartre called ‘Them’ the IDIOTS,you call ‘Them’ BLOBS, I call ‘them’ CREATURES-as in simple biological units,Sheeples,Things that doesn’t think,Species going round and round in a big circle every day. After reading your article,I immediately thought about Jean Paul Sartre ”NAUSEA” and had to copy this favorite part of mine,which represents for me the meaning of ‘Creature’
”How far away from them I feel up on this hill. It seems to me they belong to another species. They come out of their offices after the day’s work, they look at the house and the squares with a satisfied expression ,they think it’s their town. A ‘good, solid town’. They aren’t afraid ,they feel at home. They have never seen anything ,but the tamed water which runs out of the tabs ,the light which pours from the bulbs when they turn the switch ,the half-bred bastard trees which are held up with crutches .They are given proof, 100 times a day , that everything is done mechanically ,that the word obeys fixed, unchangeable laws. Bodies released in vacuum all fall at the same speed, the municipal park is closed every day at 4 p.m. in winter 6 p.m. in summer ,lead melts at 335*C ,the last tram leaves Town Hall at 11.05 p.m .They are peacable, a little morose ,they think about Tomorrow ,in other words, simply about another Today; towns have only one day at their disposal which comes back exactly the same every morning.They barely tidy it up a little on Sundays. The Idiots .It horrifies me to think that I am going to see their thick ,self-satisfied faces again. They make laws, they write Populist novels ,they get married, they commit the supreme folly of having children. And meanwhile, the vast Nature has slipped into their town, it has infiltrated everywhere ,into their house, into their offices ,into themselves It doesn’t move ,it lies low ,and they are right inside it ,they breathe it, and they don’t see it…I know it’s submissiveness is laziness, I know that it has no laws, that what they consider it’s constancy doesn’t exist .It has nothing but habits and it may change those tomorrow.
Jean-Paul Sartre
NAUSEA
Wow, thank you so much for showing me this, I really enjoyed it and I will be sure to look into more of their work. I completely agree with that entire paragraph and I envy their ability to articulate it so well. And I also like your definition; creates- as in simple biological units. What do you consider yourself as?
I consider myself HOMO LUDENS -PLAYING MAN (WOMAN)from latins
”Play is free, is in fact freedom.
Play is not “ordinary” or “real” life.
Play is distinct from “ordinary” life both as to locality and duration.
Play creates order, is order. Play demands order absolute and supreme.
Play is connected with no material interest, and no profit can be gained from it.”
From the Dutch author Johan Huizinga’s book ”HOMO LUDENS”