If you've been following our YouTube account over the last few months, you'll likely have seen some our Minecraft diaries. The creations of our Minecraft community never cease to impress, but every adventure in OXM Land leaves me with a sense of private guilt. Come visit my Minecraft world, and I wouldn't blame you for pointing and laughing.
Actually, you don't even need to visit - the video below contains a whirlwind tour of everything there is to see in my personal realm. For the love of God, please don't show it to my parents.
Most of the work isn't even mine - a couple of random readers on my friends list popped in on Minecraft's launch day, and built a little home in the side of a cliff. Since then I've barely had a chance to build anything. A lone cliff-top wooden hut serves more as a landmark than anything else, and my only other major achievement looks wholeheartedly rubbish from almost any angle.
My obsession with building a floating castle means that most of the time I've spent in this world has been spent gradually chipping away at a mountain. For those of you who've never been tempted to try, I can officially confirm that this takes flipping ages.
This isn't the first time I've failed to be any good at playing Minecraft. When the PC version first came out I spent an entire day building a castle, before realising that spending this quantity of time on a single game simply wasn't sustainable. In many ways Minecraft is the natural predator of a games journalist. With so many different things to keep up with, it's difficult to invest in just one game, especially when it's a game that never actually ends.
Every time I see another amazing Minecraft world, my hidden embarrassment grows. I'm pretending to be a big shot city-slicker, but I'm too ashamed to show you my pauper roots. I'm like the Don Draper of Minecraft, except without all the bourbon and naughty sex.
Giant skyscrapers make me nod in approval, but it's the smaller things that make me want to dive back in. One of the Xbox 360 version's earliest screenshots still fills me with aspiration: a lovely wood and brick house with a simple water feature, surrounded by a bunch of cheery-looking creatures.
Next time I'm overwhelmed by the grandeur of your incredible structures, I'll glance down instead at this simple dream. One day I'll find the time to log back into my world, and build my very own country cottage. After much deliberation, I've decided to frame this image in place of the photo of the wife that I've been keeping on my desk. She isn't my wife, so it's for the best. I'm probably not Don Draper after all.