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So my job recently took a turn for the AWESOME. I now get to write blog articles, trawl the internet for links, and post stuff to Facebook and Twitter - and get paid for it. That's pretty cool. It also means I have cash (woo!), which means I can do stuff like a pre-order signed copy of The Ocean at the End of the Lane  and freak out over it and see if putting it next to a signed Terry Pratchett novel will spawn a signed Good Omens. Unfortunately, it has not as of yet.

So my life is pretty cool right now. Have a poem:


In days long past, when night was gone
Us children faced the sun;
We'd sing and play, we'd grasp the day,
and enjoy the light we'd won.

From the to now the night is nothing
but the shadow of the world,
Not a terror or a fiend
nor dangerous flag unfurled.

I remember days long past
when daylight was the goal
To survive the night, spread wings, take flight
and escape the darkness whole.

Where did the sense of terror go?
And the joy of fighting through?
Why do only children fear the dark,
What was it that we knew?

I wish that I could feel again
that fear, that fierce desire,
To know the night as children do,
and to know that inner fire.