So I'll stay that, I swear

I wanted to tell you this before my mind stopped working. Before the job, becoming the job, or not becoming sad but becoming the making of a living--that institution of change is becoming a burden. I could see into the future--swallow--this hollow barn with bling in it. Muffled howls and so on. The change imminent and total. A seizure and not a radical departure, just some webbing, to make the night not repeat the job of the day pleading for location please, a rest stop. A light shift (it's dark now) I will not become the job in a place like that, I'm sorry I became that--I'm not that, I'm this other--so I'll stay that, I swear.