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...

Living in a society such as mine is a disease by itself. You're brought up having several built-in aches and burdens that might (or will be) your biggest obstacle. You'll end up at the age of 20 yrs old feeling overwhelmed with the poison stuck on your skin from your surrounding. Being poor will seem to you like something extremely unacceptable, because dreams need money to happen; therefore, getting involved in too many business projects, being employed in several part-time jobs, or maybe cheating and stealing in some extreme cases might be the only solution. You are also "chipped" with an on-going love for lust and sexual desires due to an innate sexual repression, driven always by the standard stereotypes of a woman to the child's eyes, a woman that represents his mother's breasts of which he was obligated to abandon, a woman who is the imagery of a dream girl, a woman with her amazingly heavenly voice, a woman so charming that he would sell his soul for; ...

Only you I choose among the entire world. Is it fair of you letting me be unhappy? My heart is a pen in your hand. It is all up to you to write me happy or sad. I see only what you reveal and live as you say. All my feelings have the color you desire to paint. From the beginning to the end, no one but you.

That's the spirit I admit that the air was filled with that stench I only tasted in Germany. It was indeed something made outside Lebanon, people were happy, flowers everywhere, children playing around, mouths being fed, artists in action, and actually no one was pissed, well except for that old hag that kept criticizing the food. I found out today, oh no, not found, but actually went through that sensation where you lose your appetite for your most favorite hobby because of that "thing" that was wrong.