Angels wanna wear my red shoes

The internet's been down. Today, and yesterday were as uneventful as ever. And the days are dragging by.

Red shoes are lucky (mine are vintage red converse that are falling apart. And I wore them today)

7th hour. There's four of us at our makeshift table of four desks scooted together, or pod as my teacher refers to it. Me, Mari, across from me this guy, who's name I do not yet know and Emily next to him. Guy, which is what I'll refer to him as until I learn his name, keeps a journal. But it's not for himself, not like you usually write, thoughts and stuff. Nope, it's a book of letters to a girl, who's "as far as the east is to the west...". Emily kept bugging Guy to read it and finally they exchanged journals. I don't know the story, but I can guess pretty well. Unrequited true love, that ended badly, really badly. I listened to the conversation, a mix of sentiment and understanding, Mari's offhanded jokes, and my quiet laughter or occasional comment.
I'm really starting to like that class. We make an interesting group.

Chris talked to me today. Going back to yesterday (this is related). I went to the boy's JV soccer game. Nick and Chris play. They won, but Chris didn't get to play. I always joke with Nick that the only reason I ever come is to see him with his hair in a ponytail, and to avoid math. And he jokes that I'm only there to see Chris (which is partially true...). Well after that game he was in a really bad/depressed mood. We talked to him a bit, but he was so out of it. And that was sad. But today...things were different.
I was talking with Sam and Nick outside when Chris walks up. He yelled a hello. "Hi Chris. I like your shirt." He was wearing a Madrid jersey. "I like you too baby." That made me smile and made Nick start teasing me.
Other than that my life is boring. School. Home work. That's it.

Sometimes when I'm drawing I feel like I can't pass on the sadness or happiness that I'm trying to pass on through the drawing. Does that make sense...? In a song, you can hear the emotion, or in writing, but what about drawing. That was really bugging me today.

The color of the sky: A clear blue. Color seeping through layers of thick glass, coming out drained and dampened. White splatters, like milk that someone spilled on that glass coffee table. I wonder if it will rain tonight, cause won't the owners want to clean off their table?