Okey-cokey, day four of jolly things… Sunsets.

Eesh, I imagine you cry, she’s gone soft.
Here’s the thing… When I was a kid, I had this feeling that – frankly, it’s hard to articulate – but I was sure I was watching a film. Everything in the world, a film. Like those VR headsets that actually exist now, it was like I was watching a film and was so close to it all, it was like it was real. But it wasn’t. I could believe, quite readily, that everyone I ever knew was an actor, and all the places I went to, film sets. Kind of like The Truman Show, but I was in on the lie.
I was quite a small child at the time, and I have no idea where this feeling came from but I slipped into it with such frequency that I was sure I knew something that no one would talk about.
It was all pretend.
You know the floaty things, sort of strings and blobs, that pass before your eyes when you stare at the sky, or a blank pale wall? When I was a kid, I thought I could recognise them as copyright signs.
And that’s the problem. Even if it isn’t real, any of it, I don’t have creative control. Clearly. If I did, I would have sold a million or two books, and have a film deal in the offing. I’d have a flat in London, with a doorman, champagne in the fridge, and world-class actresses on speed dial.
It’s too big a thought for me now, but when I was a child, it seemed quite normal to think it was all make-believe. Anyway, as the years past, the feeling slackened, and I came to accept what I saw as real, or something like it.
But I wonder if other people think about life like that, or if it’s something which is simply reserved for children who watch too much television. And when you look at a sunset, do you think it matters if it’s real or not?
Oof, existential angst on a Friday but look – pretty.