Friday night, I went out with FN, Sharon, and a bunch of her friends, then crashed at a house in Ballston because I missed the last train home. Once I did get home, I slept until 4, and I dreamt. I don’t remember much of it beyond the awful headache that was caused by the two bullets I had put through my head: one from the front, through my forehead, and one from the right, above my ear. I don’t remember much else, except that I was chasing something, or running from something, or fighting something, with a killer headache and blood streaming from the four holes in my head.