Residing in a Florida state park, the striking hulk of a creature lives entirely alone and is devoid of any contact with his fellow hippos back in Africa. For 40 years this behemoth has been deprived of the company of his own kind.

This sad disposition prompted me to question how a human would sustain in such isolated conditions.

First, allow us to examine the hippo’s daily routine. He has an unsurprisingly lax schedule; he eats from the park and roams the grounds at his discretion. He’s freely done as he’s wished for years, but has lacked the companionship of another hippo to enjoy it with.

How vain it is to have the world, and no one to share it with! It would break me entirely to live forever in such solitary measures.

There’s a certain comfort that comes from the presence of others. Everything’s more exciting and lively.

Perhaps it’s only me, but a comedy film is funnier when watching it with friends. It’s like there’s this underlying, mutual acknowledgement of life’s happenings between us. Seeing a person’s reaction to the world — in any way — makes me feel less alone. Hearing a friend roar with laughter reminds me to lighten up when I’m blue and in the gutter.

And on the other end of the spectrum, watching a poor soul cry sobers me up and makes me realize how delicate and fragile people can be.

It reminds me we’re all products of the universe trying to understand it in our own unique ways.

Without another person to experience the joys and sorrows of this world with, life is a tragedy. And for that reason, I pity my hippo friend.

If it were me isolated from my own kind, even with unlimited sustenance and shelter, I’d be a bloody wreck.

Given a packed fridge, Netflix account and other pleasures, I’m sure I’d be OK for a while. But the entertainment eventually would exhaust itself and I’d desperately miss everyone.

Worst of all, I’d have no one to retweet me or like my statuses on Facebook! Oh, the crime of it all!

I’m being terribly sarcastic, but still, the extensive use of social media shows how dependent we all are on each other.

The sport of competition also is reliant on others. Competing with one’s self is boring and unfulfilling — there needs to be others to contend with. Shooting hoops in my driveway is swell and all, but I eventually want to match up against others to test my skills.

Oh, and what of the insatiable lust for love?

A large part of being human is falling in love, so how crushing would it be if there was no one to romanticize about?

As arguably the most powerful emotion, the lack of love would extinguish the spark that ignites our spirit.

People in love seem to have more energy. They’re under this infatuation spell with one another that makes everything fantastic — even the most troubling woes become manageable and dismissible because of the enduring love that keeps them above the water.

I don’t endorse the notion that an individual needs another’s undying adoration to feel completed, but I do know it’s a phenomenon within our nature that can’t be avoided even if we’d like to.

Still, it’s absolutely absurd to require the kinship of another person at every minute of every hour.

It’s important to be alone, too. Being alone allows one to unapologetically relax and exist in their own skin without the watchful judgment of others. It’s refreshing and free.

But no matter an extrovert or introvert, one eventually would desire human interaction — people need people.

As an afterthought, it’s liberating to know we’re all imperfect vessels searching for the truth — no one really knows it, and no one’s really alone.

We’re just a bunch of humans trying to figure out what it means to be human. And I’m OK
with that.

Tyler Burt is a guest columnist at The State News and a supply chain management junior. Reach him at burttyle@msu.edu.