torment of thought

I try to go to sleep,cause I have to.. but honestly,I hate going to sleep.6 hours of laying around stuck in bed in my head.Doing nothing.I don't even dream.(I meant to say I don't remember it )
Sometimes I wish I didn't ever have to sleep.Who the hell made bodies have to be so fucking limited ,pathetic and needy? In my head I am free,in reality when I am in this body it's in jail.
If it ain't my body ,my traumas interfering with me ,or other peoples stupid bullshit ,or crap like paying bills,taking a shower,or having to eat and eat eat eat,I am so sick of food...Every day it's maintenance.The body never stays clean,the house gets dirty,laundry cat box...It's gotta be fed.sleep,rest,clean dammit Life: it's a albatross.

My body seems to go nuts at night it can't regulate temperature or something.Every fucking itch is magnified so I scratch one than as soon as that stops another, this goes on and on.I than force myself to ignore the itches.Than my muscles hurt.The cats get in my way and I feel bad nailing them with a foot by accident.I wish they'd stay away from the feet.It sucks.
In my head I see art I wanna do,plans to paint my room unfold as if iI was doing it,or some such imagining thing.I have poetry speaking in my head ,songs and ideas,I get thinking about black holes and it gets me thinking..I see psychedelic patterns in multicolored phosphors on my retinas,and I just watch it and that spins off a bunch of ideas for art or whatever .I open my eyes and there is multicolor patterns in the dark.I lay there and I feel like my body is putting my spirit in jail.And I just am frustrated as hell.

I dunno what I want. Maybe I just seek liberation.

I wish I could just ditch this stupid body and create without it.Go live in my imagination and have fun.Ditch the traumas and memories of life mundane all the itches and sleep sore throats going to the bathroom and be what I want..Shift into any form I need or want to be and discard it when it isn't useful or comfortable or whatever. Why Can't we all do this. Why have an imagination if it cannot help you become?

If reality is made up of a bunch of molecules and energies interacting and our bodies have a fresh set of molecules every 7 years why the fuck do I gotta be hampered by THIS damn pattern for so long?Why do we age? Why do I gotta eat or pee,it makes no sense to me. WTF is programming these bullshit limitations? Why can't I make myself morph my own damn molecules as I want to? What about these molecules that make up my body is resisting working with my desire for a body more in harmony with my imagination? I know I can't 'create' reality..I create art.Why can't I be art than.Fuck reality. Feh.
Maybe when I get that vision where reality itself looks like it's boiling away,and it looks shifty, I'll look until I bore a hole out of it and escape. Ugh. Gotta go pee now,sheesh it NEVER ENDS!

Just complaining tonight.