Maybe we do not need the objects of our needs, but need the need itself, and wrap ourselves up in them. With our needs, we play out dramas, of needs met or not met, and rely on our selves or others to meet those needs, or we blame them for not meeting them.
Some play out the drama of self sufficiency. Self-sufficiency seems safer, less risky than relying on others. They long for freedom, but create their own prison of needs, and they will stay in that prison, and make it their home, as long as they can fulfil those needs and rely on no one else to meet them. If they then reach a point where they are unable to meet these needs, the myth of their independence evaporates, and they are brought back to the original pain of loss.
Others play out the drama of having needs that are some one else's responsibility to meet. They are well aware of the need they have; the hungers, the cravings, but will not supply themselves with the means to sate those needs, and wander around in the unpredictable forest of people, hoping to discover the world to be adundant, and able to provide. But sometimes the fantasy of the abundant forest, disappears like a mirage, to reveal no oasis, but a barren desert of despair; a land that doesn't care.
Others so revile the idea of needing anything, they will create mansions of adundance, hoarding wealth like a magic charm. They despise the needy, the spongers, the scroungers. They distance themselves from them, and live behind walls and gates, to separate themselves, and to hold back the flood waters of their own deepest darkest fear.
Yet, we don't even need the need. Not the object, not the idols, not the amulets and charms, or the need itself. They are an illusion that we use. They are a suffering, that we often wear like a badge of honour, a badge that reaffirms our identity, and we will continue to persevere dutifully down the road of our particular sufferings.
However, sometimes people find an object who's power is so great that it consumes them, it swallows up the person whole, gobbles them up and devours them. That is a need of another category. Some people, are so traumatised by life and living, and having been born, and feel so homeless in the world, that they want to lose themselves in the darkness of wombs, or in the ultimate womb of death.
They need to be swallowed up, because when they are swallowed up, the pain is swallowed up, the loss is swallowed up, the despair is swallowed up, the helplessness is swallowed up, and the terror of vulnerability is swallowed up.
They give themselves up, and sacrifice themselves on the alter of that God.
Some Gods are monsters.
