The rising sense of inadequacy seems to over take me. It slowly rises to the surface as I sit and listen to the silence that has suddenly engulfed Harlem.
There isn’t a siren sound nor that of a cat howling or a car honking. Rather just plain silence. Even the rhythmic patter of rain I’d rather hear than this silence.
The kind that makes you go deep into yourself. The kind that drops anchor into the bottomless abyss that is your rising faults.
Sure. There is nothing like the sense of I wish I was better. I should be better.
This is just one of those overwhelming moments. Everyone has them at some point in their lives.