Shit.

Hollywood is bigger and scarier than than The Golden Bear initially thought. Still no house. Still no job. At least the weather is nice.

Today, The Golden Bear walked the Hollywood Walk of Fame because The Golden Bear had nothing better to do. I walked until I found Vince McMahon's star. I sat down next to it and hugged my legs to my body. I sat there staring at the star for like two hours. I thought about my life, and all the people I care about. Then I started to cry. There were lots of people passing me, and they gave me funny looks like I was crazy or something. I guess I sort of am.

The Golden Bear is trying to stay positive about everything, but it has been really hard. The Golden Bear has never really been on his Golden own before, and The Golden Bear didn't realize how much he needs Golden emotional contact with people. I haven't said anything to anyone except, "can The Golden Bear have an application please" for about five days now.

Last night I slept in my car. I got into my pink princess sleeping bag and I whispered, "(...thegoldenbear!)" over and over to myself until I fell asleep. Hearing the words out loud helped me remember that I am still alive.

The Golden Bear's dreams were full of tall wrought-iron gates and the comedian Dave Chappelle.

The Golden Bear woke up worried, afraid, and alone.