War Thunder is like a bowl of cereal.

At first, it's nice, has a good form, and is one of those {insert flavor you like) ones with extra pieces of (insert extra thing like marshmellows oat chunks idk bro, its your cereal here) and there was plenty of great (insert type) milk. Having poured this cereal, you eat it happily. Then, you have milk. There are two options here: Drink the milk, or, if you really like the cereal, you can pour cereal in.

In the case of War Thunder, Id say most drink the milk and leave. Some dont.

Some stay. They eat another bowl. Sure it was sitting on top of the milk at first, only a few pieces actually got into or under the milk, so you press it down into the milk just so its all... uniform to you. a good bowl of cereal. you eat it all again. Once more, you have milk, however.

it's only half as full this time.

almost all drink here. some stay.

You fill it to the brim. so much cereal, inserting the spoon makes pieces fall on the table. You hesitantly eat spoonful after spoonful. Your mouth is sore, the spoon is warm, the cereal brittle and dry, but near the end, HA! You hit the milk line, and your eyes widen when the moisture hits your mouth, and in your excitement, you hurriedly eat the rest. You take in a quiet deep breath, and look at the bowl. droplets of milk remain.

You cannot drink. Some Stay.

You pour another bowl. Its a slog. at first, the moisture in your mouth helps with the pure dry of the cereal as you eat it, but after a few spoons, it begins to feel gritty. Your teeth begin to grind on microbits that they simply cannot break. it begins to cake your mouth, making you salivate less and less, but you keep eating, and eating
and eating

and eating.

its over. You sit your spoon down. Not a trace of milk resides in the bowl. Your mouth begins to feel warm, and you notice its not saliva, but cuts the cereal inflicted on you simply showing you the consequences of your actions. You look at the cereal box (or bag idk your life), and you cannot bring out any words. How could something you loved become so.... against you? You think back to when you had milk in the bowl, how happy you were when you ate it, how enthusiastic you were at the thought of simply putting the spoon through that layer of dry cereal into the milk below. What simpler times those were. You wonder how you lost it... that feeling, that happiness... Memories simply flash behind your eyes as they fill with tears. As you dip your head to grieve, the cereal box makes a sound. You look up. The box(bag) is brimming with cereal. pouring out of the opening as if still filling with more. It suddenly stops. Curious, you look in the bowl.

A single drop of milk sits in the center of the bowl.

Please... Go... Don't suffer anymore.




i s t a y e d.

War Thunder is like a bowl of cereal. At first, it's nice, has a good form, and is one of those {insert flavor you like) ones with extra pieces of (insert extra thing like marshmellows oat chunks idk bro, its your cereal here) and there was plenty of great (insert type) milk. Having poured this cereal, you eat it happily. Then, you have milk. There are two options here: Drink the milk, or, if you really like the cereal, you can pour cereal in. In the case of War Thunder, Id say most drink the milk and leave. Some dont. Some stay. They eat another bowl. Sure it was sitting on top of the milk at first, only a few pieces actually got into or under the milk, so you press it down into the milk just so its all... uniform to you. a good bowl of cereal. you eat it all again. Once more, you have milk, however. it's only half as full this time. almost all drink here. some stay. You fill it to the brim. so much cereal, inserting the spoon makes pieces fall on the table. You hesitantly eat spoonful after spoonful. Your mouth is sore, the spoon is warm, the cereal brittle and dry, but near the end, HA! You hit the milk line, and your eyes widen when the moisture hits your mouth, and in your excitement, you hurriedly eat the rest. You take in a quiet deep breath, and look at the bowl. droplets of milk remain. You cannot drink. Some Stay. You pour another bowl. Its a slog. at first, the moisture in your mouth helps with the pure dry of the cereal as you eat it, but after a few spoons, it begins to feel gritty. Your teeth begin to grind on microbits that they simply cannot break. it begins to cake your mouth, making you salivate less and less, but you keep eating, and eating and eating and eating. its over. You sit your spoon down. Not a trace of milk resides in the bowl. Your mouth begins to feel warm, and you notice its not saliva, but cuts the cereal inflicted on you simply showing you the consequences of your actions. You look at the cereal box (or bag idk your life), and you cannot bring out any words. How could something you loved become so.... against you? You think back to when you had milk in the bowl, how happy you were when you ate it, how enthusiastic you were at the thought of simply putting the spoon through that layer of dry cereal into the milk below. What simpler times those were. You wonder how you lost it... that feeling, that happiness... Memories simply flash behind your eyes as they fill with tears. As you dip your head to grieve, the cereal box makes a sound. You look up. The box(bag) is brimming with cereal. pouring out of the opening as if still filling with more. It suddenly stops. Curious, you look in the bowl. A single drop of milk sits in the center of the bowl. Please... Go... Don't suffer anymore. i s t a y e d.