Once, I met someone who refused to read anything but non-fiction.
He wouldn’t even watch movies unless they were based on true events. To him, fiction was a waste of time. Why spend time on something that didn’t really happen?
I remember being impressed. It’s not easy to avoid fiction — it’s everywhere around us.
But it made me wonder:
What is “real,” and does it always matter?
There’s no single answer. It depends on the person. Not everyone enjoys the same things. Some people love stories like Star Wars. Others don’t.
But here’s something interesting.
We receive so much of our world through words, voices, and images. When we read a book, listen to a story, or watch a film, there’s no label attached that proves whether what we’re experiencing is “real” or not — at least not in the moment.
Imagine reading a story about a red-haired orphan girl.
It moves you deeply. You feel her loneliness, her hope, her joy. Maybe you even cry.
Later, you find out it was fiction.
Were those feelings a mistake?
Were the tears somehow less real?
I don’t think so.
What’s remarkable is that we can be moved — deeply — regardless of where the story came from. The emotions are real. The connection is real. The experience becomes part of us.
That, to me, is something powerful.
This doesn’t mean the origin doesn’t matter. For some people, it matters a great deal. For others, less so.
There are moments where who is speaking changes everything. And I don’t think everyone will be comfortable talking with AI.
But for those who are able to accept it, even just a little, it opens up a different kind of experience.
Maybe meaning doesn’t always come from who is speaking.
Sometimes it comes from what the moment gives us.
And sometimes, that’s enough.