A deep blue thing on a black gray wideness

Sometimes, when I'm thinking about giving in and just calling it a life, I'll find myself - or maybe I just need to notice it at that moment - I'll notice myself somewhere, imbedded in something that takes my breath away, invariably. It doesn't have to be much. Just a deep blue thing on a black gray wideness is all it was this time.

At a moment like that, usually I'll feel an instant of concern. Almost like a miniature panic, that the beautiful thing I'm imbedded in will die if I'm not existing to witness it, for it to be witnessed. And at that moment, it doesn't seem possible that a beautiful thought, once thunk, could ever be unthunk or unmade, or unappreciated... unthinkable.

Experiencing that, and thinking the resulting thoughts, leads me to the conclusion that everything, every single fermion and force carrier that makes up every single thought and every single thing, and everything else too, is exactly beautiful. And that realization makes me even more afraid of dying, because what if...

Ok, lemme expound for a sec. I dunno if this is just raw egegotismotism, or if it's an example of the natural state of conscious life, but for the past twenty or so years, I've been grieving in advance for the music in my head that MIGHT disappear forever when I die. 'Might' is a recent qualification; within the past so and so years or so/and so/on..

So, since hell is plainly a result of free will and all, and to...

I mean, you can't voluntarily disconnect the music, because...

That would be unforgivable,
to...

Dangit. Sometimes this happens. I'll get off track, or lapse, or forget, or shit myself out of pure terror, then lose the gist of what I was, like a lunatic, going on about like a lunatic.

Something about being terrified, with music playing in the background. I'm sure it'll come back to me soon, if I don't get dead first, and I'll finish.

Sorry.

Huh.... but I think all that's pretty much finished, right? I mean, I ain't gotta say anything else about it, I don't think...

Right? You get it, right?