just a whistle
While i waited for a doctor to tell me what could be wrong, i continued reading Fabien Sanglard's The Book of CP-Systems1 and came upon the following page; i managed to guess a few of the characters presented in their colour palettes.
The doctor told me to run.
No she didn't; my appendix was ok, and the reason for my troubles are most likely caused by my chronically inflamed intestines, coupled with my anxiety, depression, and whatever else is keeping my brain's chemistry unbalanced.
She wrote me two sick days, so i can get a sonogram done, and don't have to stress myself to get to the psychiatric evaluation i have to do tomorrow.
And she complemented the pink Chiikawa2 folder i carried my reports in.
We had a talk with Kirby's Teacher about how he's doing at school, and it solidified my assumption, that schools are run like a business. Yes, they are, and already were when i attended them, back then at least it felt like we got a few tools handed to us, received a lecture about how to use them, and were left to roam the garden of knowledge. We worked here and there, found our niches, and were kept in the loop through well made radio and television programs. All that seems to be completely gone. Teachers these days don't seem to be needed to explore with their pupils, once the ship is ready to set sails, they are needed to give kids survival skills. And during the course of the standing in line with other parents i realised, that it is necessary, kids are lucky if their parents have the time, energy and knowledge to teach them anything useful and to help them see the excitement and adventure in learning.
Aztec/Mayan Death Whistles3 … sounds like my first go at the recorder, a fitting way to strike fear into the hearts of man.