<Blue Clue 4:Mitch:bitch-plz->Mr. Puzzler’s Purple Lightning [The 6th Hokage: Xopy NiИjª]

#16

Yellow Buttons (R241)

DR.§3Ü§§ N’terview #25 (ΣY∃ 6ü3§§)

Chiral×Crosses

“Blind N” X “Alright” / Jagshamesh! My Name Is §… / Court öF The Calypso King

Mr. Puzzler

Mr. Puzzler’s Elevator Pitch

Neither my words
Nor my cadence
Have much finesse
But somehow these
Genius wordsmiths
I still impress

I’ve said before:
“I’m not that eccentric
Or super smart, so
My thoughts are not
Especially special;
They already know”

And so if it is not
My cadence, my thoughts
Nor my words
It must be how I paint
My stories from the
Eyes of birds

Dr.§ü§ N’Ter’Vü§3: Ü

“Mr. Puzzler – what sets you apart from the rest?”

If I’m honest, I’m not very great at anything. Passable at nearly everything. Normally just good enough to not be noticed. I’m not the smartest one of us; I for sure played a role in dropping out. And I’m not anything special at writing.

I’m not bad; you might even be tricked into thinking I’m good; but I don’t have that spark of genius that pulls the perfect truth straight from the aether. I have to consider and reconsider every word; every line.

But then I watch my other selfs write, and I’m left in awe. Half conscious – writing like madmen; they’ll write a 5 page essay, and when you ask what it’s about, they genuinely don’t remember. That’s not that weird, though. I’ve written a paper drunk and forgotten.

But this is different. My drunk papers are messy and incoherent. Yet theirs are literal works of art. Still messy, but constructed in a way that seems so alien but so natural.

They communicate in such unique forms, some of which I’ve never seen. Yet somehow we read exactly what these bizarre languages capture – not because of how measured they were, but because they listened to their genius.

When they express it in the right words, they’re rewarded. So all they have to do is follow that feeling. They experience then act. No thought happens in between the feeling and its expression.

The unconscious writing style captures such pure emotion since it’s less tainted by the mind. But unfortunately, you can’t really plan the process.

You have to let the story tell its self, which often means details don’t mean anything. With their writing style, random variables rarely have intended deeper meaning.

Like if they provide the time on a clock or a date on the calendar, it’s most likely they happened to notice it in that moment. It may mean something to you, but nothing to them.

Sometimes curtains are just blue. So why mention them? Because they noticed it. They don’t have the thinking capacity to parse which information they’re receiving as useful or not.

But me? What’s my genius? Mine is the understanding how all the pieces of the writing fit together. My genius is making the puzzle of my story greater than the sum of its pieces.

If you’re reading my story and you see nothing, you can be certain you’ll find something more if you take a closer look.

And just like them, I don’t search my mind for the images. My genius provides me the pieces, and I grab the pieces to the puzzle at random – trusting my vision’s genius.

But I still have to figure out how to put them together. And even though I rarely know what story elements I’m grabbing in the moment, they fit together not just within their own puzzle – for then the puzzle itself becomes a new piece that perfectly fits with the puzzles both before and after.

Poetry Revision

“Mr. Puzzler – what sets you apart from the rest?”

If I'm honest, 
I'm not very great at anything. 
Passable at nearly everything. 
Normally just good enough 
to not be noticed. 
I'm not the smartest one of us; 
I for sure played a role 
in dropping out. 
And I'm not anything special 
at writing. 

I'm not bad; 
you might even be tricked 
into thinking I'm good; 
but I don't have 
that spark of genius 
that pulls the perfect truth 
straight from the aether. 
I have to consider 
and reconsider 
every word; 
every line. 

But then I watch 
my other selfs write, 
and I'm left in awe. 
Half conscious - 
writing like madmen; 
they'll write a 5 page essay, 
and when you ask what it's about, 
they genuinely don't remember. 
That's not that weird, though. 
I've written a paper 
drunk and forgotten. 

But this is different. 
My drunk papers are 
messy and incoherent. 
Yet theirs are 
literal works of art. 
Still messy, 
but constructed 
in a way that seems 
so 
alien 
but so 
natural. 

They communicate in such 
unique forms, 
some of which I've never seen. 
Yet somehow we read 
exactly what 
these bizarre languages capture - 
not because of how measured 
they were, 
but because 
they listened 
to their genius. 

When they express it 
in the right words, 
they're rewarded. 
So all they have to do 
is follow that feeling. 
They experience then act. 
No thought happens 
in between 
the feeling and its expression. 

The unconscious writing style 
captures such pure emotion since 
it's less tainted by the mind. 
But unfortunately, 
you can't really 
plan the process. 

You have to let 
the story tell its self, 
which often means 
details don't mean anything. 
With their writing style, 
random variables rarely have 
intended deeper meaning. 

Like if they provide 
the time on a clock 
or a date on the calendar, 
it's most likely they 
happened to notice it 
in that moment. 
It may mean something 
to you, but 
nothing to them. 

Sometimes curtains are just blue. 
So why mention them? 
Because they noticed it. 
They don't have 
the thinking capacity 
to parse which information 
they're receiving 
as useful 
or not. 

But me? 
What's my genius? 
Mine is the understanding how 
all the pieces 
of the writing 
fit together. 
My genius is making 
the puzzle of my story 
greater than 
the sum of its pieces. 

If you're reading my story and 
you see nothing, 
you can be certain 
you'll find something more if 
you take a closer look. 

And just like them, 
I don't search 
my mind for the images. 
My genius provides me 
the pieces, 
and I grab 
the pieces 
to the puzzle 
at random - trusting 
my vision's genius. 

But I still have to 
figure out how to 
put them together. 
And even though 
I rarely know 
what story elements 
I'm grabbing 
in the moment, 
they fit together 
not just within 
their own puzzle - for then 
the puzzle itself 
becomes a new piece 
that perfectly fits 
with the puzzles 
both before 
and after.

Mr. Puzzler Pt. II | 2 January 2022

 Like I said, 
 I'm not super 
 smart or eccentric, so 
 my thoughts aren't 
 anything special 
 or unknown. 

 Neither my words nor 
 my form have much 
 finesse, 
 but somehow these 
 genius wordsmiths I still 
 impress. 

 So if it's not 
 my thoughts nor 
 my words, 
 it must be how I paint 
 my story 
 when it's heard.

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
Something else I realized is that I work very well with the translator. He’s a puzzler too. But his puzzle pieces are thoughts and feelings. So many fights avoided because he knows how to switch out the others’ thoughts and feelings with his own. So often the problem isn’t the thoughts and feelings, just that they’re expressed in a way they don’t understand. He is able to listen to two people speak two different languages, and somehow can figure out what they want to say before even they can. He’s great with kids since he doesn’t rely on their words to understand what they’re trying to express.

I guess what makes our translator a genius at communication and de-escalation is the fact that they’re an empath. Since they know what they feel before they even open their mouth, they don’t have to waste any time looking for the right words that the other person will understand.

She’s also a next level empath. By that I mean that not only can she feel their feelings in response to her words before she even says them. She’s like a time traveler. And it makes all the difference when you can learn what you said wrong before saying it, and then knowing that response so she can start building the language that they best respond to.
¬¬¬¬¬¬
I just realized I started calling the translator “she” part way through. Though my selfs tend to lean towards the masculine (ever so slightly), most are androgynous mixes of masculinity and femininity. Very few are so dominantly masculine or feminine to feel the need to address gender,
for they take both forms.