https://goofypiecesbyaimeesuzanne.blogspot.com/2025/12/the-therapeutic-benefits-of-whacking.html?m=1 First blog created in forever. This is just a random blog where there will be posts funny FICTION stuff. Written by: Aimee Suzanne Just Writings #funny #hilarious #hysterical #fiction #funnystory #funnystories #creativewriting #writing #comedywriting #brainstorm #brainstorming #brainstormwriting #funnyblogpost #funnyblogpoetd

Elphaba: Wicked Two Had a great night at the B&B Theater Ritz 8 while at the premiere of Wicked Forever. I was greeted by a welcoming staff who also took their pictures with me for their supervisor to see, who was quite impressed with the pictures taken. The movie was just as good as the last one I had seen at the Marcus Theater in Lake Ozark. I highly recommend this movie, along with seeing the first one, if you can see a double feature at this time. I had done some additional upgrades to the costume since last year. I look forward to doing more of it in the future, as I have always done with my costumes in the past. For now, this will be my last crossplay for the year. I have much work to do in such a short time, and then I'll rest for a while.

After telling my Dad 'I love you' for the hundredth time, his response: "Darling, you've been saying that for the past 10 minutes already, you hanging up anytime soon, or nahhhh?!?!" 😂🤣🤣😅 Honestly... Not my fault that I take forever to say 'bye' and hang up, lmao 🤣😂😅 🫠💕

adiós para siempre Good Bye Always/forever.....Because I'm leaving for good! And im only here to decide if I want to bring people onto my Facebook which I haven't decided yet. Message me if you want!

Shared by Unfiltered Feels on Facebook four days ago: When a mother loses a baby, their DNA doesn’t just disappear. It lives inside of her. Little fragments of them stay woven into her blood, her bones, her very being. She carries them forever, even when the world assumes she’s “moved on.” Science calls it microchimerism. But mothers call it love that never left. Her baby’s cells cross into her body and stay there for a lifetime. A physical reminder that they were real, they existed, they mattered. So even when her arms are empty, she is never truly without them. Their presence lingers in her body, her heartbeat, her cells. She doesn’t just remember them… she holds them, every single day, in ways no one can see. Motherhood doesn’t end with loss. It lives on in her body. It lives on in her soul. It lives on in the love that never had the chance to grow old. She carries her baby forever. Not just in her heart. But in every part of who she is.

I like Halloween as much as the next goth, but I'm not going to water it down or sweeten it up a bit. It's a day for evil, the day when the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest. Demons be praised and devils be raised! Now give me some old school candy and forever be cursed! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-oH2bsfe2k

Forever Awaaaaaaaaaay!!!!

Had been at this year's M'era Luna Festival germany and really had a blast again! 🖤 I met so many friendly familiar faces and also got to know new people :) Not sure about what I liked most about it: the bands, the people, the camp, or just the whole atmosphere. Do you know that clichéd feeling of teenage summer camp blues that is so exaggerated in the media? Those summer camps where everyone says, “Let's be friends forever”? I don't know, but that's exactly how I feel right now. As far as I'm concerned, the festival could easily last two days longer 😅 . I'm already looking forward to next year's festival! 🥰

The Pulse That Outlives Me Since I was small, my hands have itched for the weight of something new, the warm breath of an idea still wet from birth. While others chased nights strung with music and lights, I chased the hum beneath my ribs— that low, holy vibration that says: Make. Make. Make. I am not afraid of death— only of silence, of the stillness that comes when the last word dries, when the last color fades from my palette. Some people fear missing the party. I fear missing the next perfect shiver of creation, the one that seizes my spine like lightning, the one that says: Here. This is yours. Make it real before it slips away forever. Even as a child, I knew my bones would be dust one day. But a poem— a song, a shadow on film, a brushstroke on canvas— that could outlive me. That could keep my voice whispering in the ears of strangers long after my name is forgotten. So I make. I bleed ink. I sweat pigment. I dream in shapes and sounds. Every piece is a fragment of the monument I am building to outlast my pulse. And when I am gone, let them find my works scattered like constellations— each one a flare I sent into the dark, each one still burning, still warm, still breathing my name. https://www.blogger.com/u/7/blog/post/edit/7919007891465025240/49843031849199149

Today I tried to cheer my inner child by looking for my favorite bug and making a rhubarb umbrella... But the joy only lasted briefly.. The closer I get back to real adult life the more the blues and thoughts of all that troubles me are returning... I could stay in that garden of my childhood forever. Calm and Peaceful under the lilac trees.