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i recently finished reading 'Junky' by William S. Burroughs which is a mostly personal account of opium addiction. the lifestyle that he describes in the book is pretty fascinating. junk becomes the life-purpose of the opium addict. every activity is motivated by the need to score and shoot up, while everything else just sort of fades into the background. the junky's will is completely surrendered to junk. when the need for junk can't be filled, the sickness sets in. it's a pretty ugly existence, really. but at the same time, i envy the life of the junky in some ways. there's beauty and simplicity in being so focused on and devoted to a single-purpose...and to feeling a need so strong that any amount of withdrawl results in overbearing emptiness.

i want to need God that way. i want to know his purpose for my life and be wholly devoted to it. i want to lose my will to him completely. God help me, i'm so terribly far from that point.

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