If you don’t know:
Splebunious Falunk was the greatest Banjo player in the Universe.

Dr. Erstenwhile Plonstability didn’t know.
So…
When Splebunious walked into his practice, Erstenwhile said:

‘Another fruitcake muso. I could paper the walls here with notes about musicians. Go on so ya looper, put down the Ukulele and tell me your problem.’

Splebunious gently placed his Banjo against an oak panelled wall, and sat into the comfortable leather chair facing the doctor, ‘It’s not a Ukulele, it’s a Banjo’, he corrected.

‘Do I look like I give a crap? I’m a psychiatrist, not a music conductor.’

Splebunious Falunk nodded apologetically, ‘Sorry’, he said, ‘In a way, a conductor is why I am here. Specifically the conductor of the Great Fantabulous Cosmagulous Interplanetary Orchestra. She wants me to play solo at the Imperial Kepler Circumbinary Eclipse celebration. Which is something I’d normally relish. But I seem to have lost my mojo. I suppose you might call it my purpose of being ‘

‘Save the supposing for me ya nut’, snapped the doctor, ‘and tell me more before I lose interest in your stupid problem.’

‘Sorry’, said Splebunious for a second time,
’The problem is I can’t help thinking about the futility of everything. Nothing seems real to me. Not just the Imperial Kepler Circumbinary Eclipse celebration. Or Conductor Fomptoolious. Or her perfectionism. Everything seems unreal. I suppose -sorry, I mean I think I’ve always felt like this. That everything is predestined. And nothing is real. Like I’m just somebody in someone else’s story. A somebody that will cease to exist the moment that story ends.’

‘Of course you will ya muppet. Everyone here is made up. Sure I don’t even talk like a plausible doctor’, noted the therapist.
‘Now. Piss off with that Ukulele and go make music.’