Well, it looks like these will be my last days in television. The shows aren't coming. It's time to downsize.
"This will be the last week," my Supervisor says.
"Okay," I say.
"You are great, Pirooz. We really loved having you."
"Well, I enjoyed being here. Maybe we'll see each other in the future."
We shake hands. I walk out. Downstairs. An intern accompanies me. He asks advice about girls. I give the best that I know.
"You're not alone in anything," I say. "The sooner you realize that, the easier it is to be forgiving. We're all imperfect. Shit, man. Look at me. Lets ask right now. Who here among the two of us sitting here has done this awful thing you're talking about?"
We both raise our hands. He laughs.
"See," I say. "You're not alone."
"I like you, Pirooz."
"I like you too, XXXXX.
Now I am in the office.
There is no wind.
Only desert heat.
Dry and beautiful.
Politics: A Buddhist Perspective
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