On one occasion, the Buddha said to the monks this:
"No other form do I know, O monks, that so persists in obsessing the mind of a man as the form of a woman. The form of a woman persists in obsessing the mind of a man.
All the players in my life are a product of a call to central casting. The convoluted nature of my day to day life is a cluster F-ck with no rhyme or reason; ships passing, horns blaring and the crowd shouting. Time speeds by and then stops. Darkness shows up uninvited. The light blinds me. This is the circus of reality.
The Buddha said this was to be expected. Everyone has 186 problems. There should be no surprise, only the humor of the unsuspected impossible. MU