In the moment, this uncertainty is not fully articulated, nor, thankfully, does it emerge from some extreme delusional state where I’ve lost my hold on reality. It’s more of a pre-cognitive kind of category confusion. And at the core of the confusion is this: As my life has come to consist so overwhelmingly, and for so many years, of looking at images on screens — and of looking at the world through a camera, which is also a phone, which is also a screen — the distinction for me between the screen and the non-screen can wobble.

I still know the difference intellectually. But I don’t always necessarily feel it. That is the disconcerting part. I stare at the hillside, try to pick out individual details and weave them into a living, breathing totality that also includes the cool air on my skin and the birdsong in my ears. As I do this, I tell myself, “This is a real place, this is not an image of a place,” and I repeat that a few times, trying to will back the border dividing the two.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5813387&forum_id=2"#49533265)