I believe that there is life out there.
I know, I am not the person you want to tell you this, but here it is: the Universe is way too big for us to be alone. There must be another life out there. A world full of colours and creatures with their own system, floating in space, orbiting their own stars, and perhaps, asking the same question as we do, “are we all alone?”
This belief is actually a aggregate of sad thoughts.The first sad thing about this is, they are out there, asking that question as well, and we are here. We are exist but not able to answer that question for them—no matter how many of them out there. They are out there, wonder about the same thing, but the space stays still in silence, with every single life believe that they are the only one, and at the same time refuse to living with that.
You can’t help but take this weight of loneliness when you think about it.
The next sadness comes from our own kind, those non-believer. Because we can’t be sure about those other lifes, and we don’t even know how can we be sure. So some of us give in the question, making ourselves busy with other thing such as wars (this one is the stupidest), artificial beach inside a mall, women’s nipple, asymmetrical jaw that need to be fixed, a system that can have both the richest and the poorest in the same city.
Who can blame them for turn away from doubts and unanswered questions?
We can try to working on it. But no matter how hard we try, we have to face another sadness, that we can keep asking the question, are we all alone?, are we all alone?, are we all alone?, but the answer will always come on one fine day in the future. The answer belongs to our children. We have the priviliged to ask, but we can’t fight the time.
We are getting older, as we’re making progress.
Then come this: the distance between. Even if they can hear us, and we are able to answer back, we wont be here too long to meet them. Some of us might go now, with the fastest rocket in speed of light to one cold planet in the middle of galaxy, to meet those other creatures. We can witness their departure, but while they are on their way, we have to live our life in waiting.
We’re might dead already, or if we’re lucky, we’re probably sit there in front of television, recalling the day they are leaving when the news anchor giving us the details about the planet and the health condition of those astronouts when they arrived. Old people does that, they don’t really care about now, nor the future. Because they are living in somewhere we can’t go back to: the old times.
We are going to be those kind of people, unfortunately.
So we’re living our life forever looking for an answer that no one telling us, whether we’re asking the right question nor are we looking at the right place. So we’re just keep searching, open up to every possibilities—worrying that we might miss tiny detail that leads to the right answer, without knowing where out limit lies on.
But, all this sadness is nothing compared to our determination. We push ourselves so early—long time before, and never stop nurturing the curiosity ever since. We keep watching the sky and beyond. We are looking at the stars, studying the outer space and all these things that floating in it, make notes of every movements so we can understand their behaviour and might found something. We keep making stuff to see futher, listen clearer, and go faster.
Just so our children can reach out to them.
We have to make sure this question is asked by every next generations, so we can make this as journey belongs to every single one of us. So we can be one step closer to making it possible for our children in the future to find any life out there and move on to the next question, whatever it is. Even if we can’t hear the answer ourselves.
Finally there is this question: if there is another life out there, then what?
And it becomes even more dejected now, doesn’t it?