dune was a good movie, but i hate messiahs.

other than jesus, maybe?

but jesus, even, doesn't feel like 'the key'. he's more representational of the key, something you already have inside you, something you don't necessarily need to be cleansed by the lord to experience, but what do i know. too many stories of physical healing in the bible for me to fully discount the fact that they claim he was a messiah with magical powers.

anyway: dune was good.

i went to see it with v.s. and her best friend c.z.

they're funny together. one is five foot two, the other six feet tall, like me. of course, i'm here for the five foot two girl who draws obsessively.

but c.z. is brighter, quieter, less sure of herself, more aware of her surroundings.

after the movie, she cried in the subway station while v.s. stood with me and hugged me. i didn't like that — i've felt lonely, sad, in my head, and i would not have appreciated my friend with her little boy toy off to the side paying no attention to my state. i wanted to hug c.z. and tell her it was all okay.

she's not okay and has too much pride to say it.

v.s. is dedicated and smart but not objective, too tied up in everything, unable to step away within a moment. her room was also a fucking mess, with only one little path of clear space on the ground for me to climb into her bed. barely three inches of clear space on the bedside table to put my phone. my body is here and my heart is not here. it might be non-existent. i think it's tired, on vacation.

v.s. and i had three quarrels:

one over zodiac signs,

she believes in them a little too much, and i don't understand how splitting up the sky into twelve sections connects to human behavior. she doesn't like when i question things she believes in.

one over the second coming of jesus christ,

she says there's no such thing. i say there is, it's in the book of revelation. she says that the catholics don't believe in that, because she went to catholic school until she was fourteen and never heard of such a thing. i say they do believe in that, they probably just don't mention it because it's weird. we look it up, i'm vindicated, and she doesn't like that.

one in the morning over the cleanliness of her apartment,

because there is hair all over the back of the toilet, disgusting filth in the floor of the shower, and the mirror is covered with water spots. you might think, "why would you call her out like that?" and the truth is, i didn't. v.s. and c.z. made some allusion to the fact their apartment is not as clean as it usually is, and i made a face. they know the score: 10/10 on the disgusting scale. v.s. says, "at least we're not hoarders."

she still smiles big and hugs me goodbye with a kiss on the cheek when i leave.