Dear Creepers,

You have officially crossed the line. I was fine when the first time I met you, on my first night playing Minecraft. I chalked it up to a learning curve and moved on. I died many many more times to you as I progressed in the game, but I never hated you for it. I came back to the game recently, after a nice long break. Apparently, your grudge for me has yet to have abated.

I wasn't mad when two of you snuck up on me and strategically knocked me into a pool of lava and not only killed me, but also destroyed both sets of enchanted diamond armor I had been saving up levels to complete. Foolish me for not paying attention and carrying them around rather than stashing them.

I wasn't mad when I was bringing back several blocks of diamond ore and you knocked me into lava. I should have that dungeon lit up better.

But today, you crossed the line. When you blew up beside me, causing the lava pit I had just made in my blacksmith to begin to flow, I was more worried about getting myself to safety and refilling my health bar. Then, the sounds of dying villagers reached my ears. Oh, no. I watched as the flames spread over the house my villagers were currently stored in. Watched as they bobbed up and down, watched as all of my villagers perished the most painful of deaths. A zombie siege had wiped out my first batch of villagers. Without a zombie spawner in sight, I had to capture and cure to get the two you killed. Many were lost before I perfected my technique. They were the chance for a new beginning.

Suddenly, I feel the need to craft a lot of TNT.