When I went home over spring break, birds built a nest on my balcony. When I came back, there were baby birds, so I waited until they grew up and flew away. But then, I went home for mini-summer break, and then I was lazy, so it wasn't until today that I finally decided to go out and destroy the nest. Because there were still birds in it, and they were soiling my balcony to such an extent that it was getting unusable.

I knock one side of it in, and four baby birds fall out and hit the ground. They couldn't have hatched more than a day or two ago; less than an inch long, no feathers. I stood there horrified, just staring at them, although I think I did let out a Darth Vadar style, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" I called my parents, who told me that they're probably going to die, but to go ahead and put them in some kind of container with what nest I could salvage and leave them there, just to see if the mom-bird comes back. I put them in an empty margarine container, which isn't that different, really, from them just being on the balcony, and I'm worried about the fact that I touched them. Although I'm sure it won't make any difference, and tomorrow or the next day I'll come out to dead baby birds.

I hate myself right now. And now I'm crying again.

ETA: Two of the birds are dead already, so I guess it doesn't really matter whether or not the mom-bird was going to abandon them or not. Goddammit. It's not about feeling guilty - I know there's no way I could have known they'd be there, and things happen - it's just...they're babies. And they're tiny and alone and they're going to die. Or, have died. God. It's probably stupid to get upset over, but I am.

This is going to sound so lame, but I wish I wasn't by myself right now.