Kyle Belote's Blog, page 18

Songs Left Unsung

Did you know that I loved you, even though I didn’t say?

Could you see the shine in my eyes, a silent way to praise?

Did you think me tragic when shame made me abstain?

Sometimes I think the world just burns and rages on for days.

Can you keep a secret, never to tell a soul?

I want to share my troubles, my angst, and my woes.

You were the lyric on my heart, a song born of art.

A rhythm that no one knows, a tune that never grows old.

My heartstrings hum like the plucking of a harp,

A sweet melody rings with a touch of melancholy,

But the distance and time has robbed the resonant toll,

And I’m beginning to find that I’ve abandoned all hope

I wanted to say we must never be apart,

But you’ve moved on, and you’ve cut out my heart,

Didn’t I tell you it’s tragic, like a Greek odyssey?

I wanted to foster this love, but you have forsaken me.

With open arms, I’d welcome you back,

In a flash, an instant, with no questions asked.

Can you tickle my fancy just one more time, dear?

I need you in my life to make my insanity clear.

You’re a breath of fresh air, the oxygen in my lungs,

You’re my protector in the songs left unsung.

I need you to come back so I can right the ship,

You are the soothing balm for this incurable itch,

I am starting to hate you for leaving me this way,

Creativity, why are you such a pain?

I need to write the tomes that tumble through my head,

And you need to help me and not make me beg.

There’s a tightness in my chest, a heat like the flames,

Is the world burning or is it my angst?

But I did love you, even though I didn’t say,

The shine in my eyes was the way I praised.

Maybe it was the glare of the laptop’s glow,

But the pages I wrote for you … you must surely know.

So come back, and let the past be the past,

All will be forgiven if you help make this last,

I have books to write and stories to tell,

Let’s rekindle that song that we know so well.

Bleeding Mercury

Why can’t life give to me some magical fairy tale?

There’s a sadness deep in me, it’ll stay for a spell.

like and un-chosen destiny, Fate please give me a dream.

Let me hold it for all to see, my simple pride appeased.

There’s a second that I can’t breathe, this life wasn’t for me.

And so much I could tell, flying closer and drawn to hell.

There’s so much for you to see if only you could believe.

I’m bleeding mercury…

There’s a rage inside of me screaming sadness let me be.

Fair winds and parting seas, to my own world I escape.

Is your faith instilled in me? There is something I must say!

Hear my words I pray you heed–it’s all I have inside of me.

Watch the coming of the setting sun or the rising of another one.

Don’t get tangled with Fate’s ill will, be bold, and true, and real

Let me show you for all the world to see, this is what life has for me. 

I’m bleeding mercury…

Upcoming Novel & My Editor–J.C. Wing

Hey all! I just heard back from my editor, the fantastic JC Wing, and the first round of edits is done. We’ve got another round to go, but the big hurdle is down.

The Editor: For those of you who don’t know her or looking for an editor yourself, I recommend her. She edited my first novel and has fair prices with great feedback, to include leaving the author’s voice intact. JC takes copious notes if you tell her your weaknesses, and she’ll be on the lookout for them. You can find her website here. Send her a message, show her some love, and check for her availability. 

Now, onto the novel. This one is different than the last. Instead of epic fantasy, this one is geared towards military sci-fi fans. Also, this one is your typical three-hundred-page book, not the tome of my main series. There is a fair amount of covering space travel. Most books, and movies, too, jump to lightspeed and then poof, they are on the other side of the galaxy. As fantastical as my sci-fi is, it is rooted in as much reality as possible.

Stay tuned for upcoming news about the novel and release dates! If you enjoyed this content or you’re an avid, epic fantasy reader, check out my book, The Bearer of Secrets, on Amazon. It’s available on Kindle Unlimited, eBook, and print.

Day Five and beyond–Hawaii

The next day proved to be taxing, productive, and painful. We roamed all over O’ahu, and the trips were about ten to fifteen miles a piece. May not sound like much, but you’ve apparently never driven in Hawaii.  Five miles can take 20 – 30 minutes.

My wrist hurt even more, and I was in such pain I almost requested my dad to take me to the ER. After a few calls to a client of his, the man diagnosed me over the phone with a Grade 2 sprain and possibly borderline 3. After telling us how to treat it, I took to following the edicts as much as possible. The client said that if it wasn’t better after a week to go to the doctor. By the end of the day, it was already getting better. To make sure I didn’t hurt it worse, my dad made a sling for me, and I refrained from using my left hand. Anyways, thank God for being right-handed and for clients and contacts.

My dad and I headed out at 0600 without eating breakfast. We figured we’d get some once the paperwork was signed. Reaching the rental office, I realized I forgot the money order for the security deposit and everything. Good thing we left early! So, we doubled back, picked it up, and headed back out. So, there was three back and forths before 0800 on Friday. We sign the paperwork and then head out to inspect the apartment before taking the keys. Trip four.

The apartment inspection took longer than anticipated, but once complete, I test drove a car there at the complex. The seller came to us. Afterward, we drove to meet a man about a couch in Waikiki–the fifth trip. I didn’t feel like shelling out $800 for the couch and love seat, so we passed, but he had a bed I was interested in, just not at the same place. Both of us were hungry, but we had to meet a man about another vehicle. Trip six would take us there.

Arriving at the dealership, we met the seller and test drove it. Only being there for less than an hour really didn’t give us enough time, but we had to go see a man about a bed. The seventh trip took us to the storage unit where he had many beds. He let me take the pick. This man’s occupation was that of an apartment stager for rental properties. He’d set up, and they’d come in and take pictures, then he would tear down. Anyways, the bed was like brand new and never slept in. I picked up a king, the box springs, the frame, and delivery for $450. Not too shabby.

Still, without breakfast or lunch, we traipse the seventh time back to the dealership and start talking about the car. I end up getting it. An older car but only 67K in miles. Inside was in pristine condition, and it was a Toyota to boot. 

The eighth trip brought us back to the apartment to receive the bed. After a few moments, the bed was inside, and the delivery guy had left. The ninth and final trip of the day brought us back to the hotel area where we finally got to eat. 

On Saturday, we drove to a garage sale near K-bay. I picked up a dining table at one location, and a chest of drawers at another. When I inspected the drawers and turned around, I saw a painting I recognized. I am not an art aficionado by any means, but it was Everett’s Cottage by Thomas Kinkade. The only reason I know of him was that my mother–who was also an oil painter–had a fondness for him. It wasn’t an original but a print and on a massive 18×24 with a gold frame. Alas, I bought that too. New home needs some color. 

On Sunday, we went to North Shore. Monday I started work, and my dad went golfing. I saw my dad off on Thursday morning before I went to work. He’s back home now, and I am spending my first weekend alone in Hawaii. Don’t know whether to be lonely or relieved or excited. More to come, just don’t know when.

Day Four–Hawaii

I awoke with my wrist more than a dull throb. In fact, any slight movement hurt, and not the I-overstretched kind of hurt but the damn-that-made-my-eyes-water kind. Maybe I slept on it wrong. Because I was told traffic is terrible, I have to run to downtown Honolulu to turn in my application for the gated property. I leave at 0600 and get there at 0620. So much for traffic being terrible from 0500-0900. Anyways, I am sitting there in my Star Wars shirt (it looks like Van Gogh’s Starry Night), and a guy walks by and starts chatting me up over it. An hour later, after swapping stories and woes and dreams, we part ways, and I friended him on Facebook to hang out later. I turn in the application and head back to the hotel.

I crank out a dozen emails for apartments knowing only one will be returned. I am surfing Craigslist for a car and not seeing anything in my price range–the amount I want to spend, not the amount I can afford–got to start being frugal somewhere! I am out searching for apartments, calling, emailing. I run out and check quite a few locations and properties but only from the outside. Until I get those returned calls, I’m S.O.L.

I zip back to the hotel to get some quick downtime before one of my two “old men” flies in. The beauty of mixed families is that you get two parents for everything. I get a callback from the property I saw yesterday, the gated community. They approved my application, but I need a down payment tomorrow at 0800 to move in on a Friday.  Problem: my bank is located on the base, and I don’t have access yet. After a crap-ton of back and forth with the 1-800 number for the bank, we find one that is not on base. Glancing at my watch, I realized my dad lands in 45 minutes, and it’s getting late in the afternoon, close to closing time and rush hour. I make a dash for the bank, get there, get my money order and head back to the airport. It worked out great and perfect for timing. Pick him up and get him to the hotel and drop off his things. 

Punching in the coordinates for the Ford Focus, we drive over an hour through congested traffic to get there. I really liked the Focus. Clean, well-kept overall, my favorite color. Two things were wrong with it that were absolute deal breakers, unfortunately, but we keep it in mind. With the day long over, we head back to the apartment and get ready for some shut-eye. Tomorrow will be a long day.

Day Three–Hawaii

This will really short as it is long after the fact. A little late after the day occurred, but I will get to the reason why in a later post. I don’t understand why it is so difficult to get people to answer phone calls and emails in Hawaii, but it is. I inquired about so many properties/cars over the last 48 hours and I heard back from about 5-10% of them. Talk about bad customer service and reputation for business. Checked out another apartment today. The lady was quite nice and the apartment was okay. It wasn’t great but not terrible. I could see myself living there but only after some serious elbow grease. That’s another thing, the place should have been a lot cleaner before showing. Oh well. A little dirt never killed anyone, but I don’t understand how leaves got into the dishwasher. Side note: my wrist is hurting, but I don’t know from what.

I get a call back for an apartment, jot down the address, and bolt on over. Seventh floor and the walkway is open to the elements. Parking is in a huge lot and my two stalls are the furthest from the door. Not ideal, but not a deal breaker. Yeah, it had a pool but 95% of all complexes do. In fact, in the future, just assume all of them do unless I say otherwise. Get inside, small kitchen but very doable. I’ve had a Japanese kitchen for 13 years, so a small American kitchen is a regular size in Okinawa. Fairly new appliances, so double check. Big dining and living area. The half bath is small but expected, and the main bathroom tub shows a lot of wear and tear but not a deal breaker. Just an eyesore really. Bedrooms are smaller than I’d like and the closet space is nonexistent. Those hurt its chances. Oh, and there’s no A/C, but the worker showed me the design of the apartment and how it was meant to allow for air flow. To be honest, it was awesome and an A/C wasn’t needed … at that moment. What about late at night when you’ve got to close the front door and not rely on the screen? All this coupled with location and price, I’d be will to concede on a few issues but it’s not my first choice.

I email about another property once I’m back at the hotel and holy shit!–I got a response. They have a showing and it’s in a few hours. I put my name down to confirm and then go back to surfing for cars. I found a Ford Focus and schedule to go look at it tonight with my dad once he flies in. I go to the viewing. I am not the only one there for the apartment. It’s a gated community in a woodsy area, and the country boy in me is liking it already. There aren’t any highrises to be seen anywhere, and it’s closer to work. Two bedrooms, two baths, and new appliances, all within 3 years. Price is quite high, at least on the website. I learn from the lady there that the owner dropped a hundred off the asking price. I snap photos, shoot a video, and send them to the wife. She was the least enthusiastic about this place when I told her about it. After the photos and vids, she tells me to get the place because the kids would love it. The second bedroom, which would be theirs, is upstairs and is a loft area. So, it will be kind of an adventure for them. And they get their very own bathroom, so yay for not sharing with their uncool parental-units. I grab an application and I tell the lady I need to move in ASAP because I have work on Monday and I am out of time. It’s Thursday now, mind you. She says that’s virtually impossible because it takes 2-3 business days, but she’ll try. I fill it out, pay the fee, and turn it in. 

I spend the last night alone in the hotel. Tomorrow, my dad flies in.

Day Two–Hawaii

A little late for an entry, but I was wiped out yesterday and couldn’t keep my eyes open. I viewed some apartments, and while impressed with some aspects, others left me worried. Who sells an apartment for a family but one parking slot? The elevator jarred everytime it moved and sank so fast my stomach turned queasy. Do I want to ride that every day to the twelfth floor? The other apartment was just straight up false advertisement. 

I took a journey through downtown Honolulu today. That was interesting. Beautiful, crowded, traffic was … not terrible, but a character building moment for my patience. Anyways, I followed the mapping system, taking me to an address so I could test drive a car. I could bring myself to like the vehicle. Further, the owner confided that he had been using it as an Uber and racked up 250+ miles a day. Do I really want a car with that much wear and tear? Maybe I am picky, but if those warning signs are present upon the first inspection, how many will turn to red flags just a few weeks down the road. I really don’t want to regret any decisions–an impossible feat, I know. 

You know, maybe it’s just the area that I am staying in for my initial week, but I was beginning to think that Hawaii was vastly overrated. I took a drive to find out where I would be working, you know, to recon. I saw some quite lovely homes and cars on the way, also saw some terrible ones, too. I didn’t see anything that took my breath away. However, on the way back, coming down from the hilly area, I looked out, and that’s when I saw the picturesque scene that we are all so familiar with. It was then that I admitted to myself that maybe Hawaii wasn’t overrated. 

So, that night, I crashed at 2000 (8 p.m. for all you civvies), but by midnight, I was awake. I tossed and turned for two hours, trying to lull myself back into sleep with intermittent reading. Didn’t work. With a sigh, I rolled out of bed and started scrolling craigslist, looking for apartments and used cars, taking names, numbers, makes and models and addresses down. I’m sure they’d be pissed if I called at four in the morning. I think it’s time I brewed some coffee. 

Hopefully day three is more productive.

Day One–Hawaii

This will be a short entry. TLDR: I got a new career and relocated to Hawaii from Okinawa, Japan. I will miss many people from there, and I can only hope they will pine for me as much, but times must change, and so must I. 

Taking off on a new career path and picking up and moving sounds epic when you aren’t the one doing the heavy lifting. It’s heart-wrenching, saying farewell to folks you love and cherish and saying goodbye to the newest faces to come into your life. Here’s looking at you OMCW and all the latest members!

I had a delayed departure from Naha and almost missed my Osaka connection. They called final boarding as I was going through immigration. A paltry seven-hour flight later, and I am on another island but within the United States. I haven’t lived in my home country since 2004. 

I got my luggage, hoped a shuttle, retrieved my rental, navigated to the hotel, traipsed down the road for a new cell phone, crashed for two hours, surfed for apartments to rent, and ate some Ninja Sushi. What will tomorrow bring?

One Month Later …

It’s been a month since I got the fateful phone call, the alert in the dead of night. One month since I purchased my plane ticket in the mad scramble to get home, to be by my mother’s side. One month since I landed in Dallas, Texas and found out that I was too late, that she had passed not thirty minutes before. 

And now, one month later, the anguish is still raw, fresh. When I told my dual citizen children of a possible visit from their Paw-paw, my five-year-old son asks: “How about Nana?” Clinging to what scraps of willpower I could, I answered without losing it. But now that he is at school, and the house is quiet and empty, and the ringing in my ears is the only sound that keeps me company, my resolve crumbles. I watch my mother’s slideshow, the one we played at the funeral with the song Harvest Moon weaving a melodic serenade in the background, and I wept. 

Other than her viewing, other than the final pass in front of the casket at the funeral, I have fought to remain strong; strong for my family, for friends, for my dad. You hear so many stories of loved ones passing, only to be followed by their spouse/parent a week later, dying of a broken heart. I hoped my presence would stave off such anguish. 

One month later and I am still at a loss, but I guess how I will find myself again, meandering until the fog clears, the suffering recedes, and the path manifests. I wanted to honor my mother at the funeral with eloquent words, something worthy of her grace and decorum, but nothing came. Instead, I found myself writing my goodbye as an excuse to why I couldn’t contribute a veneration worthy of her. So, I will leave this blog short, like my words were, and give to you what I left her …

 

“I want to honor you, dearest Mother, with my passion of writing, but I have yet to write words worthy enough. I try now and fail. My spirit sifts through a myriad of emotions: grief, despair, anger, remorse … regret. A vital part of my life, my soul, has been ripped away. The world is dimmer without you, and only empty promises and half-hearted wishes remain. There is no comfort, no solace, no peace. The swells of sorrow and sentiments take my breath away, and I grieve.

Despite the onslaught of melancholy, my memories of you remain. And it is in that, that I find hope—to remember the good times. It is here that I can honor you. I remember you, and it is my duty to make sure my children do, too, to pass on all that you’ve contributed, all that you’ve imparted. You showed me the gift of seeing the world through the eyes of an artist, as a painter and musician. This is your gift to me, and I will find comfort in the days ahead. I know you’ve found serenity. Mother, I may not have crafted my own words yet, but I found something fitting, a noble tribute:

“I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence …. It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.” ––Charles Dickens, The Tale of Two Cities.

Be at rest, Mother. You were my first love, and I will always love you.”

 

The Texas Collection

These are paintings I did for my family while home for my mother’s funeral. The first one I did on the day of my mom’s funeral. It seemed fitting, as if she’d want me to honor her memory by doing the thing we shared together.

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