Sick from boozing and written in prose, Daniel has finally accepted that his current life cycle, which looks something like this:

wake up => drink => hallucinate => drink => self-prescribe => fall asleep

...is not going to help him recover from his horrible murder or even be sustainable in the long run. It's gone on even longer than the last time he died. He should really make more friends who don't kill him recreationally.

He's staggered down to the kitchen, severely unkempt and visibly hung over, for some real food. Or, in the very likely event that he can't keep that down, at least an area that isn't his own stuffy, over-lived-in room.

Daniel slips in, sees Philip, draws back an inch and... closes his eyes for several seconds, waiting for the vision to pass.

Which, when he opens them again, it hasn't.

Not that that proves anything.