Ever get that feeling that when you've been sleeping, someone else has been in the room with you? Not in any weird, creepy ways, just, there in the room. Time tells you it's been hours, and that the said person is right there. So, you sit up slowly, clearing your eyes, waiting for them to adjust, and low and behold, that person, was never there at all. Just a cold antique oak chair positioned crookedly, facing the television across from you, as it's been for days. The t.v. blares words of the latest, most depressing news you've heard since yesterdays topics. This box can't tell you stories, this box can't sing you to sleep.