adyton punk

When I become like Afghanistan

The colors still mix just right for the perfect consumer 

Sometimes we play the nail and sometimes we play the hammer

Sometimes we spit up

While looking at God 

But when you feel the blows then things start to turn

Not a conscious formation to a pre-cortex with hypoxia 

Do I turn, for you? Or for who? Or for something else? Who has the script? The play is in the headset, ugly 

Let’s begin with one statement that I want to be known:

There’s a drunk who pushes all the bloody buttons I want to push 

He’s going to lose his job, however, and soon

And if I told you that I’ve met him, you’d say I’m a liar 

Because my reality has become just that 

When I was young and dreamed and thought about the ghosts

So now sitting in a bomb shelter 

With everyone telling me to keep the pressure up 

Those who want to fuck me

Those who fuck me 

Those who fuck me over

Those who fuck me while fucking me over 

Those who fuck 

Miscreyentes who I’m used to now 

Just like you have have hardened to them 

A part of the cover story becomes the whole act of reinventing 

Cowards hide from things they fear so 

Finding something beyond that 

Moving on now for the sake of it

Passing it along to something new 

Or brand new 

Cowards is a word that unravels some, badly, almost to a childlike state 

When I talk to the old man with all the wisdom but with none of the money or fame 

He always ends up picking up his lukewarm drink and telling me 

Always like infinitely - because I have no capability to measure my words

You’ll never lose if you don’t try to win 

So I don’t believe the old fuck

I just sort of look at the poor, old fuck 

Hoping the day moves on 

And that’s only one part of it 

Weapons 

A fun tale

Someone to nod their head approvingly 

Move across the world with just that, and tell me you’re not number one 

Hey, the void 

Thank you for being here to remind us 

Just at this moment 

At this very, precise, moment 

That this whole tree grows on electricity 

That the power, from this, is from the same place and nothing can be said to diminish the finality of it all 

How none of this will be here after cocktail hour 

Unless committed

To a place where you have to check in your credentials 

And they serve only garlic bread and cigarettes

Along with your information and a government stooge

Or to the memory hole of some passenger in our life 

Who just took a piece and then took it and never thought about it again

Not even in passing, not even fleetingly 

Not even once did they think about that one thing you/me/someone did 

That whole event 

A ghost let’s themselves be seen

Perhaps the drugs that they filled us with in the school lunches - or the medicines mom and dad believed in - made us lose this sight 

With glimpses and shadows 

Just shoulders and elbows 

Of the other jumps into ponds of electromagnetism we can still jump into 

With just more budget or oversight from the c-suite, perhaps 

Without having to take off more than we ever had to

Because modest is hottest 

For Cabal (ah’s):

These linear systems of thought

When applied for long enough 

Return the effects to the parasite 

The man talks about Maria Orsic’s panty grool

So the crowd lightens up

To threaten apathy that will never be

Is how the enlightened get shot in the back 

With a date set, there’s no way to play it off

When doing some digging through the backyard

Becoming a gossiper again

Talk now

X2

Can’t even look at the light

In this post traumatic timeline

The enthusiasm becomes concentrated 

A wash of time melted from the faces of the strangers sitting around in a circle 

Temporary comfort in a borax bath 

For the confused hemoglobin drifting 

The bodies back here can’t muster it anymore 

In a closet lined up 

With zippers stitched to them 

In desperate need for a sponsorship 

From some agency

A three letter scar that’s shared 

Stick a label on them while they’re warm

Wanderlust is the envy of every curated piece

To pass the time

Staring at burnt out neurotransmitters

Playing in the garbage we made 

Who claims top control

Better yet 

Smack their noses off 

Little brats

Beloved, the gimmicks are all loveless

Took down all their pictures of you

Replaced with some bimbo who called their shot 

What was to be expected

After you’ve played with your word

1 Standing 8 count later

We know that it’s not real

Try wrapping it around the throats of those to hate

With this pool of bitterness 

The beliefs

And conspiracies 

And, yet, nobody wants to connect the photons in the blue light 

Place themselves in this chain gang 

In this backyard

All down the legs

Disciples of patience and understanding is what you’ve become

Looking around for the next last little bit of it

Sniffing frantically

Here, of all places

Get my piece

With my peace

Ole’ rat 

Ole’ rat

X2

Still begging for dominance

With waiting music stuck on replay

Transhumanism was achievable three million years ago 

The same people who missed it then, miss it now 

Stab them out 

Early and often 

All there is is time 

With, nothing else to buy

So it’s been

Lonely in the saloon past 12

No bad friends to babysit through the teeth of the machine 

Keeping the mitochondria misinformed for the examiner’s room

People living in dumpsters losing their limbs from the cold

Children getting bombs dropped on their heads

Turning into inflatable dolls in seconds 

An endless beat down will grow in the rhythm 

Forty feet is swift enough for the ranger 

A mob becomes weak if they’re going heads up 

A stove that stays hot going 20 v 1

Oklahoma drill, why not 

There’s so much racket from the bags 

That it’s a rocket just to shove it 

Get your schedulers out for more stupid shit 

Bag of air 

In this backyard with bodies

Clinking drinks 

Getting done over

Can’t steal the melanin’s conversation with DNA and RNA

Woven by intergalactic generations 

Stop sleeping for 3 years

See if the wound ever stops bleeding 

When the 2nd law of thermodynamics is violated constantly

Vagabonds with beautiful bombs strapped to their arms are wanting to chit chat 

Here, of all places 

Me, of all people 

A nod to indicate the props are in place 

Tight sentences between cuts

A life behind the lines 

Meanwhile the hot air streams by 

Threatening something that used to register 

And there’s no shame in staying alive 

Keeping a closeness to the greatest transaction

Vigor to discover the spaces of new entropy

Developing a vibration that dusts off the impure

Portals to the next place still open through breath and mirrors 

When a town rumor speaks about the after party

The shadows in the fog smile

How we get to watch it all back 

Beyond the fairytale of a man 

Or the corruption of his seed

2/17/2025 17c O/I 777,521 Vol. 3,489,685

There’s a replay of the tape out there ready

An Eastern block detail rallies behind the telegram warning 

Culture shift from targeting to admiring 

Death hasn’t found the contract that talked too much about everything  

With the choreography mapped out well ahead

It’s soothing to the mystery men doing the silent hiring 

Nowhere to compartmentalize the movements

To play aloof 

Simply made to watch

Sealing a consensus to keep the things above

As below 

Darkness no replacement for the price of entry 

How it so willingly happened 

Threw years away 

For a project with no age

Chasing after a faraday bag that desires new layers 

Keeping themselves tied to a resolution with no idea 

Precious little things came from scarcity 

Like garments falling to laws

With ATP to zero 

Victory in [  ] name only

As Planck’s constant bestows a wreath on the head 

It’s about being a soldier. Battle hardened to the core. Bad beats all over the place and it’s on me. Where the rest of you creators at? With the words “MMA” or “bets” in your name. We are all bleeding capital on the linoleum floor but who is still yapping? Adrenaline never leaving. Only I have stopped myself from seeing the board, nonetheless. Another roll of the dice and the hope remains untouched. It was me doing the harm. My sweetest enemy.

New Chinstrap vs. Ribeiro

I like the new chinstrap to win by TKO KO DQ for half a unit. I know. I know. Could be starting my night off with an easy L. The palm of my hand has spoken. Nobody can make the horse drink. I’m a bird though when I play the six. 

Bald Chinstrap vs. Dalby 

Dalby ML 1 unit because I don’t see Rinat having the wrestling or the boxing. This line seems off to me. You can’t just say Bonfim is ass now. I want to bet more but I know better. Maybe I’m just the boring husband who doesn’t smack and spit anymore? Nothing that makes the back of the head go soft. No outfit changes during the Super Bowl. What am I saying. Dalby ML 1.5 units.

Naimov vs. Lima

I don’t care how great the Brazilian regional scene is, if your first fight in the UFC is Naimov, I’m betting against you. 1.5 units on Naimov ML. He belongs as a gate keeper of the top 15 or forming a part of the top 15. Spoken.

Haqparast vs. Gordon

Awful fight but there will be a finish. I’m betting that Gordon continues to have zero game plan and gasses out early. That’s the stage in his career where I think he’s at. U2.5 rounds half a unit. Why not bet Haqparast by finish? I’m not going to answer that.

Walker vs. Oezdemir

I don’t want to bet this fight but the line is too enticing. Yes, Johnny has negative fight IQ and a questionable chin. Yes, he’s a bit insufferable. I also think he’s developed something resembling a character. Which even just a little bit of humility, grit would make Johnny a title contender. That’s what I’m betting on. 1 unit Walker ML.

Gastelum vs. Rodriguez

Half a unit on Rodriguez ML. I tossed and turned on why I felt this bet was right. Another howler perhaps. Finally made peace with it by betting less than I wanted to. 

Pavlovich vs. Volkov

Lines never move against me. It’s the cost of being the red corner. Then we will completely whiff. It has to give, or maybe it won’t and it was all just games. Just nonsense on another 2 for 1 night. Pavlovich to win by finish 1 unit. 

Whittaker vs. Aliskerov

When the lights shine down on Ikram, I see a glorious set of antlers halo around him. Sparkling with absolutely nothing in his eyes. Maybe I haven’t been vocal enough about him. He’s not from a favela nor from some back country town in West Virginia. He’s the chinstrap who merits orthographic respect. The name is Ikram Aliskerov. 2 units on his ML. 

Vale verga. No sirve este güey. Pues ya no jala como antes cuando era menos impaciente. I’ve said it before, you can’t get excited in this game. There’s no comfort in knowing that other UFC bettors had a bad week. No excuses, but also not blowing it out of proportion. Bad card. That’s what it is. That’s what it was.

Costa vs. Nuerdanbieke

I’m going to believe in myself. Who else is going to if I don’t? Costa has a lot of the tangible and intangible things you want to see in a fighter. Steve Garcia reminded him this is the fight game and you can always make it ugly. Good lesson to learn before 30. Costa decision 1 unit. Costa ML 1.5 units. 

Saragih vs. Wilson

I’m going to believe in myself. Here’s the thing, does anybody want to go toe-to-toe on adaptability? We can laugh, we can joke, but when everyone’s nuts are hanging out at the town diner, does anybody want to bet who flinches first? No gimmicks. Maybe I struggle with eye contact because of something outside of being on the spectrum. It becomes harder to announce that openly. Globally. At least not right now. Same way nobody wants to stand and bang. Trade with that. If not now, when? I’m in no hurry. This number is a bit ridiculous but I’ve grown to understand it. Saragih is kind of electric. I see it, line-makers. 1 unit that it goes over on rounds. That’s the value I see. Funny hats are like 5-2.

Quinlan vs. Fugitt

Im going to believe in myself. How is Josh Quinlan ever a favorite in a fight? I refuse to believe Fugitt is that bad. No. Fugitt ML 1.5 units. I also like the over on rounds but not betting much on that.

Flick vs. Maness

Another wild line. Once again, 125 and I doing this weird dance. I seem to like a lot of the fighters that are in this weight class. I’m 40/60 on picking fights in this weight class (and that’s being generous), however. Maness makes sense, but nobody should be betting that ML. The over 1.5 rounds at plus money seems like a steal. Leaning into that. 1 unit on the too good to be true over.

Ulanbekov vs. Van

Ulanbekov by finish 1 unit. Ulanbekov ML 2 units.

Hiestand vs. Armfield 

Armfield is good and he hits hard. His gym isn’t half bad, either. I just don’t see myself betting this number. I like pocket change on Armfield ML and the O2.5 rounds. 

Almabayev vs. Johnson

Build around the light house, build around Almabayev. This funny guy in my group of nomads said that Assu is what Money Mokaev wishes he was. Perhaps this funny guy is right. Sometimes it’s the clowns who have all the answers - like smashing NVIDIA a year ago. I’m going to chop this up a little weird. 1.5 units on Almabayev to win by finish.

Silva de Andrade vs. Johns

There is such a strong urge to bet the old, grizzled, Brazilian maniac. Turning against that feeling because Johns truly is a snoozer like none other. It’s a wash in terms of where my instinct is headed. Taking a technical look at things, I like the value on Johns. Johns ML 1 unit. Fight to go to decision .5 unit. Wait, what? No. No, I have to believe in myself. De Andrade ML 1 unit.

Cuamba vs. Almeida

Watch out. What if we do something a little weird here. Watch out. 1 unit on Cuamba over significant strikes landed. 1 unit on fight to go the distance.

Perez vs. Taira 

You kind of have to believe in Alex Perez now. He’s got that So-Cal thing you either hate or love. Or you hate it on some people, but love it on others. Tatsuro doesn’t have the striking and I don’t like that shit. I just don’t. I’m no rocket scientist, obviously. Perez ML 1 unit.

Parlay:

- Costa ML

- Ulanbekov ML

- Cuamba ML