Need to Death

I need quiet in order to read. I suspect you do not. I need a restful day in order to create good thoughts, to arrange words well. The smells need to be perfect: no toxic cleaners, no laundry drier exhaust, no obnoxious cologne that has the potency and affect of cat urine lingering in the elevator. I need the light to be bright enough to read a good, printed text, and I need the heat from the light to shine just perfectly so that I am neither too hot nor too cold. I need the ability to be able to walk around my present space and I need the ability to rest in one area. I need enough food for energy, but not too much sugar or grain such that a lengthy drowsiness puts me to sleep for my best hours. I need friends who support and who also constructively critique my work. I need an apple at the day's commencement and at its end. I need a quiet and comfortable breeze in summer, not too cool.

I have lacks. I am lacking. I "overcome" through need. I make need through you, and you and I will merge.