"No title" probably worked better.

I'm just writing. I wonder what happened I wonder why I wonder where the pain goes when it isn't hanging around like a snake, coiled around my brain secure and warm. If life is to live then why don't I feel? If death is to be gone then how do I breathe? Open windows, random thoughts, they both let the cold in and I wish it wasn't winter. I don't remember moving so far north. Where are the palm trees? Where is the bright sunshine. A breeze picks up an old photograph and I catch a glimpse of smiles. And warmth. I've got to find a new job because all this walking around hurts my knees. Blank. Gone. Thought about balloons, why balloons? I read that if you attach a note to a balloon and send it up into the sky, maybe it will reach them. Errant thoughts, wiped clean. just press send.