It was a really nice morning today, the sun was shining and and it was warm but still a bit chilly in the air. A typical summer morning.
I was up early for once, and felt like reading, so I picked to book I had in my bag (The Brothers Karamazov, Dostojevsky is the all-time favourite author), and sat down under a tree in the park and started to read. Everything was really nice, it was one of those moments where you actually feel that you enjoy life, and I read for a while.
Just when I was done reading and about to close the book, a fucking bird came and took a fucking SHIT right in my book! It ruined the book, which just happened to be one of my favourites, and it ruined the rest of the day for me as well. I've been in an awful mood since then, and it's not getting better, so I might just as well go to bed right now...