"Minecraft is Life!" said Sayed Ahmed Al-Qazwini, in one of his many appreciable speeches.
I'm part of a generation that was lucky enough to grow up with the game. I remember my first time playing it was on my extremely slow tablet. It was the free demo version because we couldn't buy the real one. And although it was very limited compared to its acquaintance, I recall having an extraordinary time playing it. As time went on, it became something I grew out of, leaving me to just look back at it and the fond memories I had from it as a kid.
Of course, when there's good, there's also bad and sometimes ugly. The unfortunate part of all this was you couldn't save your worlds. Once you left the world
or logged out of the game, that was the end of it. You had to plant a new seed and start up a virgin world. I would try with everything I had, to not exit the tab, and not exit the game at all so I could keep my world forever, but that was impossible.
After years of playing the demo, one Christmas day, we finally got an Xbox 360, with Minecraft alongside it. We. Were. Ecstatic. Hours of my time after school was devoted to making my virtual paradise, in this blocky world.
Mining was what I spent most of my time on. If little me could put finding diamonds on my resume, he definitely would have. Most people find it so boring, but for me, it was where I found the most fun.
Breaking block after block down to the core of the blocky earth, while leaving a trail of poorly lit torches behind me. Crafting tools with the very same materials that I just mined was a different kind of woke. Worrying about the zombies and skeletons harassing me and being warry from the green kamikazes was another thrill of mine while mining. Going through all that, just for the simple mission of the baby-blue ore. Talk about goals, am I right?
I used to always carry a bucket of water like it was my wallet. I used to watch people like Tecnho Wolf or Lionmaker when I was kid, and I saw that they were so skilled in the game and that they had buckets of water to help them whenever they needed it, so I decided I was going to do the same. I used to also watch other, more entertaining creators, like Venturiantale or Stampy, but they weren't nearly as hardcore as the prior two.
When the scorching lava ignited on my skin, a simple placement of my tin of water saved me from the frustrating hunger games for my belongings. Or when there was a high platform that I couldn't reach, or some unattainable ore, the aqua, moist liquid was there for me to climb over obstacles, both metaphorically and literally.
But alas, as with many things in life, my love for Minecraft, and video games in general, has diminished. The fire for it, which used to be bigger than my heart, has since dwindled to a tiny, dim, damp match that'll take you four strikes to light.
Occasionally, I'll go back to the geometric fantasy land and try to recreate that
initial feeling the game used to give me. However, it never came back to me. The missing, old charm, along with a lack of my outdated, child mindset, is nothing but a memory. But I guess that's the story of most things in our short lives.
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