Everything is mind from an amoeba to a universe. At my present point, my mind and my truth are synonymous. The same is true of everyone. "As a man thinketh, so is he." Everything is mind therefore everything is truth; temporary truth, but truth none the less. As mind improves, so does its truth...constant change. Consequently there are no absolutes. We are, as we speak, elements of the idea called Earth. Absolutes? Hardly. Let's not forget Super Nova. Change in the macrocosmic as well as the microcosmic mind.
Consider an apocalyptic statement: nothing is true everything is permitted. Hasaan I Sabah, the old man in the mountain. Not to be interpreted as an invitation to all manner of unrestrained and destructive behavior, that would a minor episode, which would run its course. Everything is permitted because nothing is true. It is all make-believe . . . illusion . . . dream . . . art. When art leaves the frame and the written word leaves the page, not merely the physical frame and page, but the frames and pages that assign the categories.
A basic disruption of reality itself occurs. The literal realization of art. Success will write apocalypse across the sky. The artist aims for a miracle. The painter wills his pictures to move off the canvass with a separate life. movement outside of the picture and one rip in the fabric is all it takes for pandemonium to break through.