The question regarding whether or not other planets share earth’s unique ability to rear life is a question many ask. However, because men much smarter and consequentially more handsome than I have undertaken this very thing to no avail, I resign myself to the idea that I must leave such a search alone. Despite my lack of credentials in this field, though, there is, in fact, another discussion to which I can speak. For I can speak of worlds, and why bother talking about planets when one can speak about worlds?
From the time humanity first filled its lungs with breath, we have looked to the skies for other worlds. It has only been recently that the smartest of men thought to look down instead of up. Indeed, I myself have discovered worlds both above and below. The problem is not where they’re looking; it's what they are using to look with. You can't observe them with your eyes. You can't see the scent of a rose, nor can you watch the internal shattering of someone’s heart. Like sound or emotion, there are indeed other worlds—ones both deep, dark, and mysterious as well as light, high, and hopeful. Both the smell of a flower and the throes of despair are real experiences; we just don't see them with our eyes.