1:16am, slaying paranoias thoughts. In short my minds the aux. Leading from lines that sought to tie a knot with the faux. What is false is the reception. Elections of the self without heeding cards dealt. Mastering demons homed in seeing. Witness the sight of a Human being. Projecting the inner to protect ones self. Wearing damage visually on the shell. Waves assured that salty smell. As we clash waiting for identity to sell. It’s a stock market, a gateway to Hell. At 1:16am, I really want to tell. When the Human being readily fell.