A/N: This is an essay. Well, I have a confession… it isn't really and I'm sorry but I had no idea what other category to put it in. Any suggestions? It was in fact, a speech I originally wrote for English. Which means if you are a teacher currently ranting that "real life me" MUST have plagiarised this from this mysterious Alexis Grey character, you are mistaken. Reviews appreciated.

Passion Versus Indifference

(In answer to the question: What is an issue OR topic you feel passionately about?)

I recently discovered, to my horror, that zombies are taking over the world… slowly, slowly, bit by bit. I felt a little ashamed, a little stupid really because it took me so long to see the signs… to notice the people with blank faces and robotic limbs, going through the motions, day after day, year after year.

I didn't notice really, until I caught the train. The seats were filled… yet I felt sort of empty. The only way I can think to explain it is the hunger astronauts must feel in outer space. They can see the earth more clearly than ever before, and yet they've never been so alone. It was sitting on that train, surrounded but alone, that made me open my eyes… and I saw that despite their proximity by physical measures, those strangers might as well have been in outer space.

Those strangers reminded me of mannequins in a shop window; emotionless and mass-produced. I had the sense that although they existed, they weren't really alive. The tragedy of the situation jolted me more than the sudden stop at the next station. Because the appalling truth is that those people on the train aren't the only ones infected.

For a second, I wondered why I cared, because I was fine and the zombies weren't hurting me. There was no reason why I shouldn't just forget what I'd seen, ignore the blank faces, robotic limbs and glaze of detachment in their eyes. Suddenly, it occurred to me that if I stopped caring, if I ignored them, then I'd be a fully fledged member of the undead army myself, and to be quite frank, that thought repulsed me.

Perhaps my passion for life, for love, for passion itself, explains my unusual resistance to the epidemic of apathy… or maybe its because I'm young and inexperienced. Maybe zombie-ism is contagious, contracted by prolonged contact with the human race.

But I don't think so, at least, I hope not. People like Al Gore, Bob Geldof and Bono. Behind the causes they are trying to advertise and the charities that they are trying to promote, is the simple code of a human heart beat… like a remote radio signal through a blizzard… it speaks to me… I see them reaching out and realize there is hope for us yet.

The train jolted again, and we were finally at my stop. I got off, and knew that I had to return to reality. Those sad, sad people might look, talk and feel a whole lot like zombies, but they're not really. They may be worn down, jaded and disillusioned but in the end, they are still humans like you and like me. Waiting for a chance to shine, for a window of opportunity to open and for the right people to walk into their lives and make them feel alive.

How does this link back to an issue I'm passionate about, you may ask… in many ways. I feel passionate about a lot of issues in the world right now…

About poverty.

About discrimination.

About the overwhelming need for nuclear disarment.

But no issue draws me in so much as this epidemic, this wave of indifference, this plague of human zombies.

If no one fights to protect human integrity, if we as a species, as a country, as individuals allow ourselves to drown in apathy, then where would the strength to survive, to fight the other bad stuff come from? What good can result, when those in a position to help others, are simply too indifferent to do so? What would the point of surviving be, what's the point of living in the lucky country, if we are all just human zombies, with indifferent eyes, blank faces and robotic limbs… going through the motions.