Minecraft: Being Steve Hi. I'm Steve. I don't remember anything, but in this notebook I will write my story. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get the original essay For vast miles one sees through the top of the tallest tree that in every direction the ocean borders the land. This little island looks like a prison. A prison where the only prisoners are nature and me. Trees, animals, sand and earth were the only materials available and the only ones necessary to achieve freedom. The wood made it possible to build a boat and make a two-day trip on which I will soon embark. This miserable island is fascinating, it is rich in apple trees which drop saplings daily, which is why I know the trees predominate over all other plants in this place. The size of the island is so limited that I will only stay here for a few days. I am aware that escaping is my only choice. It's almost impossible to leave, because everything on this island is colorful, the trees are bright green and the flowers could form a rainbow with all their different colors. Animals keep me company on this journey towards madness, because I am alone. Mr. Cow is my favorite companion, he always knows what to say and when to say it. I'm far from gone now, I tried not to look at Mr. Cow as I left, but my head was turned forward, like I couldn't go back even if I wanted to. Weeks later, I'm here, in a place that has a stupendous expanse of land stretching for miles. Steve Farms is the name of my current house, or at least that's what the sign next to the main door says. The more time I spend in this huge blocky world, the more I feel like I'm not making my own decisions. My farm is made of bricks, I wanted wood... I've learned some important skills in this struggle for survival, but I always feel like it's not me learning this. A puppet is closer to what I feel. I stood here, looking at the forest. Movement is not possible, so I now know what I am. I am a puppet. To a true decision-making soul in life. Controlling my every move is their job, in my fight for survival. My assigned soul makes good decisions, I'm lucky. I play with them in this virtual world that I call home. When my soul wants me to eat, I eat, when it wants me to fight, I fight. They choose where I go and what I do. This is what I have to do. Is this a cave I'm heading towards? I'll go. How can I stop? It's not me who decides. Even though I don't want it to end like this, it has to. A zombie is approaching. This is it... Keep in mind: this is just a sample. Get a personalized article from our expert writers now. Get a Custom Essay Hello. I'm Steve. I don't remember anything, but in this notebook I will write my story.