The organ of my imagination has dried up

Snow parachuting from above shooting right into the shivering shaking bones within my flesh. I need to get away, far far away. It's all the same, what's here is there. Nothing more, nothing less. If I could go anywhere, it would be to escape somewhere with no gravity, nor to have a sense of purpose to where I have to go, nor where I have to  be. Be free from all, stuck with my own worst enemy.. How intriguing.
I want to live in a cloud. Melt my soul within the particles, enhance my vision, hearing and touch.
Now my heads pouncing in all directions. Pain, yet happiness from within. Hope. Razor sharp glass screeching across the boundaries of my scull. Delirious and belligerent, unaware of who nor where I am. Pain and confusion overtakes every area of my body. It's the glass, it cracked, and was seconds away from shattering my life away.
I want my black diamonds back, the beauty I've been mission out on. Jump right into those black holes and drift, drift, drift away. It's official, I've become insane.
I'm at my great escape, yet I haven't moved an inch. It's the fear of failure along with success. At this point I'm on a simple quest to find the answers to all my rhetorical questions.
Stimulate my mind with artificial chemicals to soothe my soul.
Huston, we've got a problem. I'm not okay, I'm not high, but I wish I was.