As I got older, I use to go there to get away from the city and cityproblems. I miss that place. A quiet place is something everyone needsregardless if they think so or not. To some, it may be their bedroom or bathtub,or any secluded place. My quiet place here and now is Piedmont Park.
Now that Ireside in Atlanta, Georgia, Piedmont Park is a decent quiet place. Every SundayI would go out to Piedmont Park and relax. Its a peaceful place in such abusy city. I would find a secluded shaded area. Every Sunday was the sameroutine, I would prepare the night before.
I would pack in a sack, a littleblanket, a few Sade CDs, and a blunt. Lying there under the clear blue sky,smelling the fresh cut grass, and the sweet smell of honeysuckle would take meinto a trance. There would be couples picnicking, and families barbecuing, therewould be masters walking their dogs, and kids throwing Frisbees. I would thinkabout the previous week and prepare myself mentally for the coming week. I wouldsit there for hours just relaxing and vibing on Sade.
I think about all the timeI have wasted. I think about how we all take time for granted. I remember onetime I thought about time as a bank. Each day we are credited $86,400 or 86,400seconds. Every day we have to spend all of that money, you cant save orinvest the money.
To understand the value of a day, ask a mother who has givenbirth to a pre-mature child one day to early, to understand the value of anhour, ask someone who is waiting for a vital organ. To understand the value of aminute, ask someone who has missed the bus. To understand the value of a second,ask someone who has just been through a car accident. To understand the value ofa millisecond, ask an Olympic silver medalist. Time is just one thing I thinkabout in my quiet place.
I try to accept the past and prepare for the future. Family, health, future endeavors, new friendships, friendships that you knowneed to end, secrets, ambitions, goals, and solitude are many things that gothrough my mind–and the best thing about it. . .
. . . .
. . . no one interrupts you!