Questioning Benjamin Franklin's Ghost

I've materialized
 into this worded world
 a metaphysical skeptic,
 an insomniac narcoleptic,
 soI live alone
 with Ben Fraknlin's ghost.
 He's my freemason and I'm his host.
 In my dictionary
 of this worried world
 there's 57 different definitions of time
 and we debate each heatedly repeatedly.
 Benjamin insists intentions don't exist
 and it's through unknown reaching
 we each remain
 our own best intentions.
 But as each machine demands its own language
 and each language demands its own grammar,
 If DC's streets make a neat pentagram
 and every dollar bill brags god's behind our plan
 who am I to have any idea who I am?
 So we might fight all night every night
 but we seem to agree on stormcloud study.
 This lady's man's ghost and me and stormcloud study.