time to move along

Photo by Plato Terentev on Pexels

the spirit of change
is upon me
boxes are being packed
last nights are being
counted down
car’s getting stuffed
and filled with gas
a shift in scenery
is always good
I’ll ride the waves
and adjust my days
to settle into a new
version of reality…
it’s your time
it’s your turn
and you should be able to do
exactly what you want to do
embark on a new path
that brings you joy
and harmony
and not be held back
by suffering fools — 
or risk becoming one myself…
if you stay too long
in a certain kind of place
a part of you will turn
against itself
and act like another person…
and we can’t have that
not here, not now
you see,
my subconscious is selective
when it learns what to listen for…
and even a true mirror
offers only a reflection
of what’s really there…
I believe we are all so much more
than lumps of flesh
grinding our days away…
you paid your cost
what you were
is what brought you here
and now it’s time to move along

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“How can days and happenings and moments so good become so quickly ugly, and for no reason, for no real reason? Just — change. With nothing causing it.”
― Philip K. Dick, A Scanner Darkly

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Garbage Notes:

Sometimes change can happen for no reason. Maybe it’s time to try something different or start something new. Sometimes it’s time to move along, and the best thing we can do is embrace it.

I wrote this probably a few days before I wrote in a new space, and at the time it was me reflecting on the new path that was ahead of me. I was packing up, getting ready to move into a new apartment. Like all changes—it was scary but also exciting.

Shifts in scenery can be good. Human beings naturally seek comfort and security, and because of that we tend to stagnate. We find something that works and we keep doing it over and over again. But if you stay too long doing the same old shit, you’re not gonna grow. As the poem says, “we are so much more than lumps of flesh, grinding our days away.”

The line “a part of you will turn against itself and act like another person…” was directly inspired by my reading of the novel A Scanner Darkly. I was reading this book just before my move, and reflecting on how sometimes when things get bad, and the people around us aren’t so healthy themselves, there’s a dark unconscious version of the self that can rebel against reality and bring upon change in more disastrous ways.

As a writer, I also try to embrace change and remain open to new ways of doing things. It’s good to try new techniques, new styles, take on new voices, or new ways of working. This makes me think of when I tried Substack for the first time after being comfortable for years writing on Medium. There was a lot of uncertainty about the transition, wondering if I’d be able to harness the same momentum in a new virtual space.

I’m glad I did it, though, because this place is thriving and it’s added many new dimensions to my writing landscape. Never imagined I’d have the courage to read my poetry to an audience like I do here. But now it’s actually something I look forward to every week.

I also went out of my comfort zone last year and participated in Viable Paradise, an intense but rewarding writing workshop where I got to meet with other new and advanced professional writers. It was honestly scary, but I knew if I wanted to grow as a writer I had to open myself up to new avenues of interaction. I had to try to learn new skills and adopt new creative habits.

As writers we have to be able to write through the changes. I learned this the hard way when I decided to quit coffee. When your base level of consciousness is always caffeinated, it affects your mind and body (and your writing) in ways you don’t even realize.

One of the hardest things I had to learn was how to become a different kind of writer, one that didn’t use the jolt of a freshly caffeinated brain to get into a story or a poem. I couldn’t rely on that buzz to take my prose to where it needed to go. Now I have to find other more oblique and methodical ways to find my flow. Sometimes it takes more effort, but it’s a way to rely on skill and patience as much as reflexive instinct. It’s still the same voice—it’s still me—it’s just not propelled by a chemical substance.

So, yeah, this poem is ultimately about our attitudes toward change and stasis. Sometimes it’s reluctant change. Sometimes it’s change that isn’t brought about internally, but rather by the unpredictable circumstances of life. But regardless, these events, these critical moments, can be opportunities to become better people and more complex versions of ourselves.

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Franco Amati 2025

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