Theravadan forest monastic practice is arguably the most rigorous form of monasticism that has reached the Western world. Monks who stay for a lifetime, vow to be celibate, never marry, are disallowed from handling money, riding in cars driven by the opposite sex, and eat one meal per day, among other rigors. These are the basic practices; nothing in contrast to the giving up of self in meditation, the ultimate goal of any Buddhist monk.

The question The Author is asking himself is this, “Why would The Thinker romanticize such an unsteady practice? (Qualification 1. “Unsteady” is to be interpreted as meaning – the future is not known, as in, ‘The monk became sick with pneumonia and had little recourse outside of what was available in the forest.’ Qualification 2. “Romanticize” is to be interpreted as, ‘longing for a lifestyle not one’s own that is perceived as either a supplement or replacement for one’s current lifestyle.’)

The answer is a complex relationship between elements of the Person called The Thinker. Because The Thinker values mind, the concept of Mind is attractive.
Because The Thinker has internal regret and external ambivalence, he wishes something could make him externally emotionally direct and internally clear about when he is alternately clear and murky. He calls this alternate idea of himself, “Authentic.”
Because The Thinker feels irresponsible, he would like a saffron mantle of responsibility.
Because The Thinker doesn’t have ongoing and immediate access to his idea of self-control, he wants a community to support the way he wishes he could act.
Because The Thinker wants to be seen as a spiritual person, a practice of renunciation above and beyond the lay community seems ideal.

(The Author would like to acknowledge Jainism as a more rigorous practice than Buddhism. Jain monastics have been known to perform extreme acts of self-deprecation such as lie down on bedbug-invested mattresses to feed the bugs or even ritual starvation to the point of death, but he would like to insure the characters not find out about this.)

The Thinker closes his book and lights a cigarette.

Toadboy has an odd sense of justice.

"I want things to work for everyone all the time," he told The Thinker.

"Things don't work that way," The Thinker said. "You would have to allow other people to adjust what you want to do and how you do, and be happy with it. You'd have to give them direct access and control over your desires."

"I already do that," Toadboy said.

"No you don't. No, you don't," The Thinker said. "Remember how much Jiffy Lube wanted to date you? That dude wanted you. He wanted to heal the world with that box of toys."

"I'm not gay," Toadboy said.

"Yeah, you aren't gay, but you dated a guy before, so why not Jiffy Lube, if you want things to work out for everyone?"

"I didn't 'date a guy.' I sort of hung out with a guy who wanted to date me and it was a big mess because I couldn't reciprocate."

"Toadboy, you dated that guy. So anyway, what if it was a girl that just wasn't hot? What about rejecting her? What about working things out for her?"

Toadboy slumped down in the restaurant booth and began sliding his coffee mug from hand to hand on the table.

"That wouldn't be honest," Toadboy said.

"Dude," the thinker said, leaning toward Toadboy and tapping his knuckle on the table for emphasis, "WE AREN'T TALKING ABOUT HONESTY. I thought you wanted things to work out for people - that precludes honesty. It's like this - things can work out for everyone formally, as a structure."

"As a structure?"

"As a structure, or people can be honest. Either way everything sucks for everyone. The winners are the ones who can be honest enough to feel free from guilt and simultaneously get what they want."

(This argument is making The Author very happy.)

Toad boy opened his mouth.

"No," the thinker said, "I'm not jaded. I'm being very very serious. This is the most important thing. Reality."

Toadboy wanted to have Hope.

"Did I tell you I want to become a Theravadan forest monk?" The Thinker asked.

"What?" Toadboy said.

"I decided last week," The Thinker said, lighting a cigarette. "There are some of them, like in Vancouver B.C. I think. I'm gonna move up there and live in the woods. It's totally practical. They beg for their food and they can't have anything."

"Can you stop having sex?" Toadboy asked?

"There are no cute little intellectual girls with horn rimmed glasses in the woods, idiot," The Thinker said, flicking ash in the general direction of the ashtray.

"Yeah, but you'll still want them. Nothing leaves when you go into the woods. You're still just an intellectual - a pervo - a horndog with a couple of books in hand to make you look innocuous," Toadboy said.

"I'm gonna do it," The Thinker said.