Englewood Cliffs, NJ

At the monastery, I had to bend over backwards to not say that my parents don't care about my decision to enter the monastery. I didn't want to sound whiny or self-pitying or give the impression that I was deluded about my parents' concern for me.

But folks, it's very simple. It's not malicious, it's not neglect or lack of concern for that matter, but it's philosophical. Glossing nothing over, no finessing, my parents really couldn't care less about whether I enter the monastery or not. They don't give a rats ass, and that's OK!

Don't ask me what the philosophy is, you'd have to ask them. I don't understand it, but I accept it. It makes sense with everything else about them I've observed and experienced. They're not sentimental, nor do they have lofty ideas about their roles as parents.

They farted us out and they viewed parenting as a financial obligation. They had to provide for us and do what was reasonably necessary for us to be alright in the world. That's not neglect or lack of concern, it's totally concern; that's their twisted version of parental love, but it's still parental love. I know plenty of parents who are unable to even have a concept of parental love.

But having completed their obligations and more, such as continuing to allow us into their house, whatever we do with our lives is not anything they can really be bothered with.

I'm not saying they're in any way normal, hell no they're not normal. I really think my parents are unique or rare in the world. But then I think I have a unique brand of fucked-upness which could only come from a uniquely twisted upbringing. Yay me.