Day 512: still nothing useful

Day 512:

Lots of rock rats are attacking lately, and I’ve found no diamonds.

I’d much prefer no rock rats were attacking and I had found lots of diamonds.

But since that’s not the case, I’m going to at least wish the rock rats were, like, pooping diamonds or something. They don’t provide meat, they don’t provide bones, they just bite my ankles and get stabbed for doing so.

Rock rats are not useful.

Day 511: arrgh

Day 511:

Diamonds, frack it, I need diamonds! These stupid sparky red rocks and weird blue rocks and emeralds and crap aren’t doing me any good at all! WHERE ARE THE DIAMONDS?

Day 510: a wish for completeness

Day 510:

Some days what I wish for more than anything in the world — even before I was on this sad little rock — is for a mining site to dry up, to be complete, to be empty.

I feel like I know every nook and cranny of this area I’m mining right now. I’ve been looking for diamonds in it for literally weeks. Every time I come close to giving up, I find more diamonds. But seriously, the ore never seems to end. It goes on forever.

I’d like a change of scenery soon. I just need a few more diamonds.

Day 509: Splut

Day 509:

Not a lot to talk about today until the end of the day. Up to that point, it was dig ore, carry ore, drop ore off, repeat.

Then near the end of the day as I was carrying ore back to my local storage dump, a very tiny baby gelatinous death cube jumped off a cliffside to attack me, missed totally, and splattered itself all over the ground. Instant death, no stabbing needed from me.

I honestly wasn’t sure whether to feel bad for the cute little critter or relieved to know it wouldn’t grow up to be a giant gelatinous death cube. Probably a bit of both. I mean, nobody likes to see baby anythings die.

Well, maybe baby fire ants.

So anyway, covered with slime and confused about the ambiguous cruelty of the universe, I decided to call it a day and haul back to my home base for a bath.

Day 508: flaming fish

Day 508:

I keep my dried fish in the same pocket of my backpack (knapsack? is that what they used to be called?) as I keep my torches.

I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve pulled a fish out of my pocket to light for a torch.

Side note: I don’t recommend setting dried fish on fire and using it as a torch. Doesn’t work out. Especially for oily fish.