P.S. Between Dilijan and Teghut

The air is much too much… fresh… too green… too airy… too clean… that I am afraid to swallow it all… not to have extra oxygen delivery to my lungs… they are not used to that amount of freshness… trees… huge trees… old trees… old forest… mother forest… one thought… the green beauty on the background… one thought only… it doesn’t appear suddenly… it is there from the very beginning… one thought……… whose is the devil hand ???????……….. not a leaf but a forest… my citizen respiration organs… they are bewildered… my thoughts…bewildered too… how dare… to destroy… to earn…to destroy… to earn… to suffocate… to earn… stop breathing… to earn… I don’t mind my headache… extra oxygen delivery… I want it to last… I don’t mind… I must be sick to mind… you must be sick to mind… how dare you mind… oxygen delivery… this beauty… this breathing lungs… this life…

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