I look up at the sky and generally end up with a massive headache due to information overload.
Darkness is multicolored and moves. The stars help, some (for all that the little bastards are constantly changing color *fistshake*), and it's not as bad during fuller moons, but it's always kinda' painful. Mind you, blue sky is
exponentially worse (darting whitish specks, everywhere, ahaha!). About the only time I can look up outside without it starting to hurt is heavily overcast days, humdedoo.
Existential wise, the other solar systems don't really ding my radar. They're neat in an abstract way, and definitely aesthetically pleasing, both physically and conceptually, but until they or something interacting meaningfully with them are within my light cone I'm just not terrible concerned. I want for humans to be there when the last one dies, but that's about it.
Eh, who can actually comprehend the size of the universe?
I get scared when I realize that everything is so vastly separate, so far away, that it wouldn't even be physically possible for me to see any of the stuff near us in person. And then I realize that something like the space between galaxies is so many times vaster, and the space between galaxy clusters moreso... fuck.
Wanna' have some real fun? Try to imagine the possibility of distance between pre-big bang singularities. I've still not quite wrapped my head around whether that's actually precluded by our mostly-current conceptualization of astrophysics (I.e. The "scientific creation myth"
). And if it's not, well.
Well.