Dusty Wyndow Blog

I've been preaching and teaching people how and where to find true happiness, and that heaven is not up there, it's right in between our fingers, in between our teeth, it's only but a way of life... Ever heard of the saying "the shoemaker's shoes are always worn out"? A sarcastic smile is drawn upon my face when I infuse this thought into my neurones; yes unfortunately, I'm that shoemaker that still lacks the guts/knowledge/brilliance (call it whatever suits you best) to find that inner jewel in natheer. I'm surrounded with the greatest people ever. I have a lover that's always ready to forget the past and start over whenever we need it. She'll turn into the most astonishing woman soon, and I know it. I also have the mother everyone would burst into tears when they hear her story, how she always misses me, and how she feels so upset when I'm simply, not happy... I also feel, or maybe hear, those people try to reach me and say we'd l

The term "People" should be defined at first: there are the Nigerian people of course, and there are the Lebanese. Actually it is such a frustration to meet this number of Lebanese people always feeding on the biggest portion of the Nigerian income. What's more frustrating is that I left Lebanon to find another Lebanon there, with its same filth, same traditions, same gossip, same political useless debates, etc... That was the Lebanese people. Nigerian? Oh god they're a bliss. Each Nigerian man, child, woman I met have dark skin indeed, but one of the few white hearts I've ever met. It might never come to your mind that the driver working for a white man - of course - holds an engineering degree from a Nigerian university, and thus tears shone on the edge of his eyes while telling me his story and how he's stuffing an amount of 300$ each month in his pocket, which is never enough even to pay the bills.

Now come my dear child, those tears won't get you farther than my lap. Tonight, you'll sleep by my voice hearing the coziest story there is. Once upon a lovely time as lovely as your face, the moon called for one star, a unique one she is, to come over from the galaxy of starry land, to the humble place of his shiny nights.. I'm telling you this as I lay my legs into the sea, resting your head on my lap, gently caressing your silky hair..to be continued..

Attending a closed hall concert for the Fayha Choir was one of the few occasions I was longing for ever since I was in KSA. The thrill of enjoying those moving sounds from the voices of my friends up there on the stage is a privilege by itself, well how about holding a camera taking photos along with my soulmate? That would be nice eh? Actually her camera's battery died long before she could finish shooting, this is why some of the pictures on my SD card are blurry. Their entrance was simply extraordinary - as always. The genius we call Maestro Barkev Taslakian is nothing but a pure blend of originality, creativity, and excellence in everything he applies. I always wondered if I ever could snap the greatest photo of this maestro, but his diligent action was just overwhelming. Maestro Barkev Taslakian My friend Mahmoud stood at the center and started chanting "Fog el Nakhel" by himself, and yes actually we all were waiting for all the members to arise from within the