Truth is the eternal blank page on which all stories coexist and weave into one another as one epic tail. The true story is the one that refers the reader to read between the lines and see that the blank page is what is real- is the space of unconditional love and acceptance, the substance of light from which all extraneous qualities and shades rise to dance, and then disolve back into.
The story has value for it's beauty as it helps us explore the endless possible qualities and color combinations of this light, but the truest story is the one that sees all stories as part of itself, and yet not truly defining itself, but rather part of a bigger story process that transcends words. The process being, to believe in these words used to describe different bodies and objects and phenomenah are seperate entities, and believe ourselves to be the characters we've read or wrote about- only to bring language back around to tie up the false division of opposing words that speak of division, and remind of the interconnectedness that always was. The one that allows these words to finally be abandoned, because we know there is only paradox and no contradiction- and in that rest into the blank page that we are, to let a new story be written through us, with love for what has been, presence in the unified now, and no attachment to any of this.