I'm just gonna leave this here. Wanted to share with someone besides Mr Green... Who laughed and informed me how messed up I am.....
I woke early one morning, the earth last cool and still, when suddenly a tiny bird perched on my windowsill. He sang a song so lovely, so carefree, so gay, that slowly all my troubles began to slip away. He sang if far off places, of laughter, of fun. It seemed his very trilling brought up the morning sun. I stirred beneath the covers, crept slowly out of bed, and gently shut the window and crushed his fucking head. I'm not a morning person.