Collin says...

that my recent Random Tamra posts have been weird.

Which means I am now officially weird.

Not that I wasn't weird before. But now it's official.

... I was thinking about what to write about. I've had conflicting feelings about my writings. (I say "writings" like they're important.) I have an idea that's been floating in my head for about 2 years, and I haven't written it up. I should. I write positive things about motherhood and life in general, and I like that. I write up what I've done and what my family does, and that's useful (to me and my family, if to no one else). I write just for fun, just cause I like to write, just cause something inside me drives me to do it.

And yet, with everything I write, I feel like it's somehow lacking. Like I'm not quite writing something really important. Like all my writings are just skirting around something much better. Like my writings are slipping. Not what I want them to be. Which makes little sense, because they've never had a ton of direction anyway, and that's something I've done on purpose (this blog is called Random Tamra for a reason).

I DID think the other day about something I could write, something negative. It was funny, it was sharp, it was perceptive and to the point. And it was offensive. And I knew, right then, that I had some sort of obligation not to write it. Even though deep down in the "I'm negative and I like it" section of my soul, I enjoyed the idea of writing it, at least.

Bah. I've half-decided that I should just be silent for a while. And instead of writing all the time, I should start listening. Listening for ... something. Or maybe for nothing. But the listening part seems important.

Clearly, I'm doing a very good job at being silent. (Perhaps being silent and listening are two different ideas.)