I think that, as an intelligent life-force, we are pretty much alone in the universe. I think that any hope of finding other intelligent life out there is pretty much nil, and we should begin to face up to that fact.

Why do I think this?

Because it's staring us in the face, and has been for some time now. Ever since we realised the earth wasn't flat, ever since we realised that we revolved around the sun instead of the sun revolving around us, ever since we realised that we weren't the center of the universe, ever since we realised that those shiny stars in the night sky were other suns probably with their own planets, or other galaxies with billions of their own suns, each with their own planets.

Ever since we realised the immense size of the known universe. Ever since we began to understand the complexities of space, let alone time. Since we realised that when we look at the night sky, we're looking at it how it was billions of years ago because that's how long it took the light from the stars to reach us.

Ever since we realised that the possibility of other intelligent life on other planets was so undeniably obvious, and that it became clear that it was almost inconceivable that we could be the only forms of intelligent life in the vast universe. A universe so huge that we, as mere humans couldn't even imagine.

And yet, throughout all this time, and in fact, throughout all of all of our recorded history, we seem to have never even seen, heard, been made aware of, or even been left with a single shred of evidence that these types of intelligent life exist, let alone have ever visited us or even made themselves known to us in the past, in any way, shape, form or whatever.

I find it completely inconceivable that the huge and vast opportunity of intelligent life existing elsewhere in the universe has not somehow, in some small way, made itself known to us by now. And it's this alone, that makes me think that maybe it simply doesn't exist at all.

It's not just the vastness of space we have to think about. When we think about space, we also have to think about the added dimension of time. Whole galaxies, let alone universes, have existed before our own was even a twinkle in it's mother's eyes. Whole races of intelligent life, billions of them, must have existed before us, and must still exist. Surely, billions of them would have worked out how to travel across space by now.

When we look up at the night sky, we should see space literally teeming with life. We may not see the actual space ships themselves, but surely we would have at least picked up on some kind of traces that they have left behind. We've been scanning space for any evidence of this for decades now, and yet, we've found nothing.

When we look up at the night sky, as we have done for Milena, all we see, hear, pick up and scan, is a totally dead universe. How can that be possible, when we assume that the opportunities of life in the universe are so immensely probable?

If we are to question ourselves as to the possibility of intelligent life, and use all of our reasons as to why we think this may be so, then surely, as a race intelligent of asking ourselves such a deep question, we must surely be brave not to end the question there, and be brave enough to follow the question through to it's natural conclusion.

Which would surely be..

So just where the fucking hell are they then?

Surely, absolutely surely, any logical mind would look at our history, our evidence, and conclude that they just don't exist. Amongst all of this logic, a mass of logic that prooves that they simply must, must, must exist... we must question why they aint here. Why we don't see them? Why aren't they there?

Where the fuck are they?

Of everything that we believe that must be true... it simply must be true... why are we left with nothing? Why does the universe appear so dead?

I'll tell you why. Because we are as freaky as our own existance. We are the exeption to the rule. We are the planet, in an infinate universe that dictates that in an infinate universe, life must exist on at least one planet, we are that very planet.

But we are alone.