I can't find Stan the Artist. I've been helping him out the past few weeks, trying to feed him and get him healthy, but I haven't seen him since last Thursday. I thought I was getting through to him because he finally started talking, but now that I think about it, maybe I pushed him a little too hard.

I feel so stupid. I asked him if he was still painting. Idiot! Of course he's not painting. He's out on the freaking streets. Sometimes my brain goes to shit. I was just trying to break him from the stupor, but maybe that was the wrong thing to do. Maybe he didn't want to remember anything, especially the past. Maybe he was trying to escape it all and the heroin provided him the means.

None of his homeless pals know anything. In fact, those guys have disappeared as well. Maybe it's the rain. Maybe they've gone to a drier location. Every time I think about this, I can't help, but think about Eva. It just ties my stomach up in knots.