Like a Primal Battle Cry

There comes a point in time, I believe in all people's lives that they look at their life and say, "this is not AT ALL what I had planned."  Maybe it doesn't happen to everyone, but for the sake of not feeling completely ostracised, I am going to believe that it does. 

Things have been in flux.  For a long time, things in my life have been in flux.  It feels like I'm in the middle of a rushing river and just trying to ride the current, but jagged rocks block the path and so I'm repeatedly bashed into these rocks, snagged on branches and ultimately inhibited from the metamorphosis that seems so natural.  The irony, though, is that I don't know where this river goes, I don't know what the metamorphosis is, just that it must happen.  The feeling is that the pressure to be and do all of the right things and fulfill all of the right roles and maintain all of the right statues is so pervasive and yet something deep within me screams in opposition like a primal battle cry.

My throat burns.  It burns from swallowing the words that I would say, from swallowing the feelings and emotions that I shouldn't feel, or say.  My gut wretches, not knowing what to say or how to say it, but knowing that there is something that I must say.  Though I try to find comfort in the resolution that everyone has entertained this same scenario, I maintain a feeling of complete solitude. 

This is not AT ALL what I had planned....