Once upon a time, in a certain town there was a coffin maker who opened and was running a store where he sold the coffins he made himself to the customers in the neighborhood. The popuplation in the town increased day-by-day.
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