These days, I cannot turn my mind off. When I walk, dance, shop, eat, sing....I think of you, my father.

My thoughts will not go into remission until you do. IF you do.

It's hard to be here and easy to be here at the same time. I think of you more because I'm thousands of miles away and I cannot see you, yet I think of you less. I have so much to think about, so much to take in, my mind is overwhelmed. Flooding with everything...

Even so, I dream of you almost every night. The other night, Dr. House was real and was going to give you curative surgery.

It's getting closer. I wonder how skinny you've gotten. Do you now weigh less than I do?

I wonder if you will make it to my graduation. I wonder if I want you to. At first, all I wanted was for you to fight because I believed you could. Now I wonder if you can...if it's worth it, for you to suffer like this. This disease is horrible. It kills you before you die. The treatment is as bad as the condition. Maybe worse.

The chemo was changed again. It's one of the last ones left to try. You probably have more than 6 months. Then what? This is happening so quickly but also slowly. I can't explain. I can't be articulate...it makes sense in my head but is coming out like vomit on the page. My mind throws up every day.

At least Peru makes me tired and I can always fall asleep here.