The last thing I need

And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.

- Philippians 4:19

When bad luck befalls you: a terminal diagnosis, your car burns down, they gave you Sweet & Sour instead of BBQ, cataclysmic asteroids, debilitating hemorrhoids, violent in-laws, bedbugs... do you firmly declare, "This is the last thing I need!"? It's crucial to have this kind of inventory on hand to sustain a semblance of order and satisfaction in our short time; what do we need and what is the hierarchy of the sequence in which we need it?

At the end of the day, of time, what do we need? Food and shelter, which is so boring it's depressing. How about meatloaf, in a diner named after a woman, eaten next to a window overlooking your car as it's saturated by heavy precipitation. It's best to keep it simple but the details in the simplicity are what give necessity its flavor. I need a hot shower. I need a well-told ghost story. I need the embrace of a desperate woman. I need these things because I can't live without them - in any sense you can think of. 

Sometimes people will tell you what they think you need. "You need this, it'll be good for you." Usually it's when that bad luck blindsides you. "I think that gum infection is just what you needed." It's a mixture of baseless optimism and the constant lust for a deeper meaning - particularly when the hammer falls. Surely some form of good must be implied from this punishment, or at the very least, it's deserved. The reality is that it's neither that simple nor complex; we're all making enough lemonade to quench our thirst until the whistle blows. That which does not kill you makes you stronger. Or weaker, or sadder, or angrier, or hungrier; hardships are tools, and a tool can be used to mend or kill - no right or wrong, but choose wisely. 

Maybe you don't know what you need. "He doesn't know what's best for him." That's excusable and nothing worth getting bent out of shape over - let The Lord figure out that shit for you. Trying to nail down what you want is a solitary journey down the dimly-lit hallway of Free Will. "Want" and "Need" - mutually exclusive? Not on your life, kemosabe. I want casual abandon, sweaty summer sex, a second Big Mac for $1, to stare into the void and see a suggestive smile, and enough drink to procure the courage to dive in head first. The last thing I need is the head trauma and collateral damage that inevitably comes with it. Stuff like jobs and relationships and general maintenance ensure the possibility of amassing at least some of what we need, while at the same time burgling our chances at working on what we want. But they can simultaneously occupy the same soul: our needs demand actual, physical labor, while our wants can breathe and sing and dance naked on the other side of the fence until you have enough money or moxie to invite them over.

How about the stuff you already have? Do you need all of it? Do you even want it? "Any day above ground is a good day!" Old folks like to say that. It's meant to be ironic, I know, but what a depressingly flat vibe to go out on. Younger people like to say "Livin' the dream!" with that same sort of obnoxious wink in their delivery. These are people who have what they need and don't get what they want. Point is, there's no shame in striving, being hungry. People like to twist that, say you're being "unappreciative," "ungrateful." We need to be alive, to be hungover, to be laid off, to be screwed by banks and auto mechanics, to eat shit and die; we want to be alive, to try new Oreos, to watch old movies, to reminisce about the past as though it were the present, because the last thing we need is to not want. 

- Paul