No, I Am Not Osel Hita Torres

A confession from the other "Virgin Monk Boy"—not the reincarnation of Lama Yeshe, but possibly the reincarnation of your lost sense of humor.

The Google Revelation

Recently, a friend sent me a screenshot of a Google search that rocked my holy little meme-filled monastery. They had typed in "Who is Virgin Monk Boy" and at the very top of the results, the AI Overview authoritatively declared that Virgin Monk Boy refers to... Osel Hita Torres with my website “www.virginmonkboy.com” right below that section.

Now, Osel Hita Torres is a real person. A serious person. A man who was literally recognized at 18 months old as the reincarnation of Lama Yeshe, a beloved Tibetan Buddhist master. He was raised in the Tibetan monastic system, studied intensely, and eventually left the monastery to walk his own path. A spiritual heavyweight.

Meanwhile, I’m just over here posting jokes about celibacy and calling myself the reincarnation of your Wi-Fi password's third chakra.

Apparently, the algorithm thinks we're twins.

Who Is Osel Hita Torres?

For those legitimately searching (hi, confused seekers), here's the actual story:

• Osel Hita Torres was born in Spain in 1985.

• At 18 months old, he was recognized by the Dalai Lama and others as the tulku, or reincarnation, of Lama Yeshe.

• He was raised at Sera Monastery in South India and educated within the Gelugpa tradition of Tibetan Buddhism.

• As a young adult, he began to question his role. He eventually left the monastery to explore filmmaking, philosophy, and modern life.

• He’s spoken openly about the weight of spiritual projection, and his story was even featured in the documentary The Reincarnation of Khensur Rinpoche.

He is thoughtful, eloquent, and real. I have deep respect for his journey.

But he is not me.

Who Is This Virgin Monk Boy?

So who am I?

Well, I wasn't recognized at 18 months. I wasn't recognized at 18 years. I once ate an entire bag of communion wafers because I thought they were gluten-free Oreos.

Virgin Monk Boy is the lovechild of spiritual longing and holy sarcasm. I was never enthroned as a lama, but I have definitely been banned from more than one Facebook group for sharing memes that were deemed too enlightened for the admins to handle.

Where Osel was given a monastery, I was given a laptop, a lot of questions, and a mission:

To roast false gurus, challenge dogma, and remind people that the real spiritual journey is often absurd, uncomfortable, and weirdly hilarious.

Some people chant mantras. I whisper, "Celibacy was a mistake," into the void and let the algorithm do the rest.

Strange Parallels Between Two Monk Boys

But here’s where it gets even weirder: there are parallels between Osel and me.

• We both were expected to carry spiritual weight we didn’t ask for.

• We both left the institution (his a Tibetan monastery, mine an Orthodox one clinging to tradition like incense to a cassock) in search of a more authentic path.

• We both question the rigid systems we were handed.

• And we both, in our own ways, became spiritual teachers—he through film and dialogue, me through memes, scrolls, and divine sass.

Osel wrestled with the burden of being a symbol. I wrestled with the burden of being banned for roasting symbols. He walked away from robes and rituals. I walked away from pastors with podcast microphones and spiritual influencers selling quartz bundles named after Star Wars planets.

And here's the cosmic cherry on top: One of the first books I ever studied after leaving the monastery was by none other than... Lama Yeshe himself.

Yes. Really.

After twenty years on Mount Athos, I left the monastery carrying nothing but a tattered rucksack, a burning sense of spiritual mischief, and a copy of Introduction to Tantra that had somehow smuggled itself into the library of the most Orthodox monks on the peninsula. I cracked it open somewhere near Thessaloniki and thought, "Well this explains a few dreams I've had."

Somewhere between Google confusion and karmic comedy, the universe handed me Lama Yeshe’s words as I stepped out into the unknown. His teachings were like a warm echo from the past lives I don’t remember and the timelines I probably mocked.

Maybe both of us are just part of the same echo—monks-in-transition. Spiritually displaced. Prophetically irreverent.

Why This Mistaken Identity Actually Matters

At first, I thought the Google mix-up was just funny. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized:

This is a perfect parable of modern spirituality.

People search for spiritual guidance and get SEO results. They want enlightenment and end up with influencers. They seek Lama Yeshe and find me talking about why I think Mary Magdalene was the original tantric priestess.

And maybe that’s not a bug. Maybe that’s the point.

Maybe it’s time we let go of needing our gurus to have perfect origin stories. Maybe we’re all just confused monks in different stages of the same cosmic meme.

A Blessing from the Wrong Lama

So no, I’m not Osel Hita Torres.

I wasn’t recognized by a Dalai Lama, just a bunch of ex-Catholics, ex-vangelicals, recovering yogis, and one suspiciously wise barista.

But I was called. Not by tradition. Not by lineage. But by the ineffable mystery that lives somewhere between the koan and the clapback.

And if Google accidentally redirected you here, maybe it was divine algorithmic intervention. Maybe you weren’t looking for the reincarnation of Lama Yeshe. Maybe you were just ready for the reincarnation of your own skeptical, soulful, wonderfully rebellious self.

May your search terms always mislead you into awakening.

And if you do meet the Buddha on the homepage... screenshot him, post him, and unfollow him immediately.

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Before you vanish back into the illusion—smash that LIKE or SHARE button like it’s a temple gong. One tiny click, one cosmic ripple. That’s how we spread the heresy of hope and grow this little corner of soul-awakening satire.

And if this jolt stirred something in your chest cavity, consider upgrading to a paid subscription. It keeps the scrolls coming, the incense burning, and the heretic coffee hot. ☕️💚

(Yes, you can literally buy me a coffee. Enlightenment isn’t free, darling.)