it's Thursday
and I'm ready to play
I've been thinking for hours
of the words I will say
with a torch in my hot bar
and a rock in your face
I'll take all that you own
this is my place!
these are my trees
and these are my nodes
while we're at it
these are my roads!
every barrel; every crate
every scientist
that stays up late
the boars and the bears
chickens with no cares
packs of wolves
herds of deer
I've got a revy!
have no fear!
just caught the base *manager*
with his *rock* in his hand
I guess I got the wood
as was planned
twenty-two minutes into day 1
I'm directly below the midday sun
farming and building...
having fun
OMG - it's Attack! RUN!
I left my team back at base
my inventory full -
much has no place
I make a stash and hide my loot
next to a rock beyond this tree root
*Crap!* it took me way too long
I thought - well - I was wrong
my nearest bag is 30 grids away
I've got nothing and all the animals
want to play...
"bad piggy!", HELP!
anyone around?
I didn't even get to put a marker down!
Bag timer!? NO!!
is this how it'll be?
typical RUST - typical me
I hate this game.
why do I play?
could it be the same reason
you laugh, at the words I say?