I continue to fall out of love with Armenia. The events as of late haven't been kind. The space feels odd, something feels wrong. I can't pinpoint what exactly happened or when things started to feel that way, but I get the feeling that it's time to take a break from Armenia. My 180 days here without a visa are coming to an end in September, to which I'd have to leave regardless. Though I have the intentions of leaving sooner due to recent circumstances. This nation has potential, it holds a lot of beauty. But each of its problems appear to be limiting me and punching me hard in the face. There's so much I haven't seen still, but I feel like I am at the point of telling myself that there is always next time to see them. In regards to doing, I feel that Armenia doesn't learn, it pursues money but doesn't grow to accommodate for a better lifestyle. That money just ends up in someone's pocket somewhere. The more I stay here, the more I understand why the Armenian diaspora is so large. This is no place to call home. This is no place to build a home or pursue a future. This is merely a place for many to set up shop for a while before finding a new destination. And that's how it seems to be for me as things progress.

Though I wanted to enjoy Armenia, and at first I really did. There are certainly things to enjoy, and one of those as you could guess is the Lada. Those old cars. The historical side of the nation. The rustic aspects of old Soviet apartment buildings and structures. But at this point I feel I've seen all of that. And to see more is a greater challenge due to the nation's poor infrastructure and high prices. In some instances this nation is comparable to that of London in terms of pricing.

I find I enjoy the place the most when I roam through new places, but much of the areas around are now all too familiar. I know the city to the point where I can roam through it without getting lost. It's a small place to begin with, but the more I walk it the more I realise this place holds nothing. There are few events, few locations in which people gather and do something. Very few music events, few film festivals, and it seems like cafes and bars are playing a game of musical chairs and they come and go every other week due to the lack of interest people seem to have in them. The most interesting aspects of the city being the few museums which change up every few months. The main activity I pursue. And in regards to photography, I feel I take less and less photographs as the locations around me feel empty, shot to death already. An idle nature brews within as the intense heat (of which I do enjoy) ensures I can't roam around all that much. Mixed with long and tiresome commutes, the terrible air quality as fools insist on burning things all night and day. I think of the reasons why people lived here left for another place, why they love their nation still but find it an insufferable location that they couldn't return to. I completely understand it. In some instances I already had connection to them with my home in England. But that doesn't hold the same level as diaspora, that's for sure.

It is telling when people choose to leave a place rather than remain and attempt to build businesses and fix things up.

I find the few things that give me joy at the moment are the aspects of nature I see. The trees holding beautiful colour to them. The green that is suddenly around. As well as the animals that are now appearing alongside it. This is a giant caterpillar, I couldn't even figure out which type it is. Though I found it munching away at a leaf in the garden the other day. Included are lizards running around, basking in the sun. Massive beetles which have an intense buzz to them as they spread their wings, somehow defying physics and flying through the air in some clumsy, directionless manner. Their hard bodies hitting trees and leaves and leaving quite the sound upon impact. The stray dogs still bring joy. And the fountains that throw water into the air during the day are a great relief in such a dry climate. So not all is bad, but I want more. And not all of this is a wanting for that first world sort of environment. In many cases I prefer the older look to things here, it's just the parts of things that shouldn't be done in a dated manner that bother me, mostly a case of how people interact with each other and things.

I think of going to Tbilisi, knowing there's more to do there, knowing there's a bit more of a healthier lifestyle to have there with better living standards. It excites me to think of moving out into another area, to have some peace and escape some of the chaotic ways that Armenians just somehow seem used to. I miss being able to have windows open in the night. To not have the smell of burning chemicals entering and filling the space. The power cuts which take place for no reason. And the boredom of not knowing what to do in the capital on a weekend, resorting to the same few places I do know and trust. With quality too low in most places despite high prices.

I almost feel like I have obtained an intense hatred for children and parents. Trying to enjoy any aspect of peace anywhere and then having to deal with children that don't get taught boundaries or any sort of manners, proceeding to invade space. Parents idle in stopping them from misbehaving. Just earlier sitting by a fountain, enjoying the water spraying in the wind as the sun went down, some brat then jumping on a sheet of metal right by me. Followed by some idiots firing off fireworks in the park for some reason. It often feels like a lawless land, despite the heavy police presence everywhere here. Where people just sort of do whatever they want with no regard for those around them. As if nobody else exists. It's an odd environment to be around, and certainly not what I am used to in England, though even there I began to notice that shift in culture as people became less aware of their surroundings, a little more rude and more noisy. It's strange how common this is becoming, how dense living now feels because everyone seems to be encouraging this endless contest for making noise. I'm generally a bit more of a quiet person, a bit more introverted, and I certainly notice these things a little more than most.

And it feels like with summer the dial has been increased. I feel the blood within me increasing in pressure. The stress building. The urge to lash out sometimes feeling far greater. Rare feelings for me given most of the time I'm so content and neutral about things.

The few days where the wind and rain pick up are my favourite these days. The environment changes. Things become more peaceful. Everyone seems slower and more quiet outside and inside. There's a difference in interactions. Nobody can be bothered with anything. And the sound of the peaceful rain overwhelms all else. The wind blows in an anger that matches my own, and the lightning bursts in branches across the sky that speaks of a relief I can't even comprehend. That build up of pressure that results in some large burst of energy. Followed by that tired, gentle sky later as things settle.