Dear little black box, Oh how I admire your six walls of isolation; I doubt I could call any one of them a roof or a floor, this is how disorientation you make me feel. I like that you let me see out but don't let anyone see in, I like the way you turn everything dark, like Im wearing sunglasses indoors. Some times I think it would be better if I had a red rubber ball to bounce around, stop myself from feeling your influences by being distracted even just a tiny bit. It would be nice though if you'd let me leave once and a while, I promise to creep back eventually, I just don't like how you make everyone come and visit me in my dark space. It only makes them see what I'm seeing, I think it frightens them and drives them away. Or is that me defending you? Have I become so attached to you that I don't want to let anyone else in for fear they will know how to take me away from you. With confusion and loathing, Elly.