I go from having moments of pure gratitude and grace, to being just as confused and worried as ever.  Sometimes I think that my father having cancer is really waking me up to the fact that my time on this planet is finite.  I dyed my hair a shocking red today.  It's gorgeous, but I'm not sure I would have done it if I wasn't feeling like .. I don't know, like I'm tired of sitting around waiting for life to happen to me.  Sitting around waiting for things to be 'better' before I live.  Sitting around waiting for 'shit to get done' before I can relax.  Sitting around waiting for inspiration to strike.  I'm realizing that the beauty of life is that we have to find our inspiration, we have to stop waiting.  Life is fucking messy.  I mean, beyond your wildest dreams messy.  Like so fucked up sometimes I wonder what the point is.