Another year, another birthday.

Ponders now, staring at the new number of his life of 27, the ork rubs his skull with a mechanical hand and peers at the others of himself over his lifetime thus far,"...hmm, frag it, let'z just keep it goin', what cha say?" The gatekeeper looks to him, and shrugs rattling his chains," You keep the painting of miniatures galore, while I speak of poems from distant shores." The ork stares at the man and shakes his head,' Kan't believe we be same person. The two head off on their tasks.

---insight moment of my brain.--------------

So yeah, geez, 27, wow huh, well happy birthday to me, time to figure what the heck to do with my life thus far. Besides painting, drawning and poetry, I need a freaking job...I'm starting to talk to myself...