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Not That Kind of Lisa

 

Fear In Me

 

Thinking about returning to this blog

Every time I post on my wordpress, I am going to reinstate all my previous post and redo this blog.

marriedinarkansas.com

Welcome to my idea of Sims 4 world

Links to my YouTube Channel for my latest to Suno songs.

Flipping for Love - Love triangle between Eliza and Bob Pancakes and the artist Drew 

My Sims are on the Dance Floor All Night - Dancing Sims grooving to the beat 

Love On Repeat - Love story about Bella and Mortermor Goth and jealousy.

I love writing. I love creating music 

with Suno and I love playing Sims4. Put them all together and here is what you get.

The Haunted House that Inspired my song

Whispers in the Walls

 As an adolescent, I lived in a house that seemed to have its own life. From the creaks in the floorboards to the strange sounds that resonated down the halls, it constantly felt like something—or someone—was watching me. These bizarre incidents lingered with me long after I left the house, and I realized that the memories of that location would haunt my creative soul indefinitely. That unsettling inspiration eventually became the basis for a song I wrote, one that captures the feelings, terror, and mystery I felt all those years before.

When I started writing the song's lyrics, I intended to convey the spooky feelings I had as a young girl in that haunted house. The atmosphere of terror and disorientation I experienced, the shadows that appeared to dance just out of sight, and the sense of helplessness in the face of something far stronger than myself are all reflected in the song. It seemed alive, full of unspoken tales and mysteries, and it wasn't just a house. Here's a sneak peek at the lyrics inspired by these feelings.

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The tone of anxiety is established in verse 1 with the fear of being awakened by whispering in the middle of the night. I can still recall those times when I was lying in bed, hearing unreal sounds yet feeling them with all of my senses. It seems as though there is no way out because of the walls crowding in and the shadows moving on their own. I was surrounded by fear like a thick blanket, and I never really got over it.

Verse 2 describes the sensation of being followed by someone invisible. The echoes of footsteps in the corridor, a cold sensation running down your spine as if someone—or something—was present but you couldn't see it. I always felt watched, as if the walls themselves had eyes, and the scariest aspect was not knowing what would happen if I slipped up.

The Chorus is the heart of the song, in which I ponder on the house's unwavering grip on me. It wasn't just a haunted house in a creepy, mythical sense; it was an actual location with ghosts of twilight and gray. The wails and screams of the past appeared to reverberate in the air, as if the house was playing a game with me that I could never win. It seemed like I was stuck in a chess game, where I was always the pawn, helpless and inconsequential.

Verse 3 introduces the tangible manifestations of the haunting: rattling windows, slamming doors, and the unending darkness. I felt like there was nowhere to escape or hide. Those icy, invisible hands reaching from the bottom and the words pleading for more made me feel helpless and insignificant. The home seemed to be demanding my attention, drawing me into its twisted embrace.

Verse 4 depicts a rising sensation of imprisonment. Every corner held a fresh horror and a new secret. The thump of my heartbeat as I attempted to navigate the house served as a continual reminder that I was always on edge, racing against time and terror. But no matter where I turned, I couldn't get away from the house's merciless grasp; it was always in charge.

The Outro adds to the eerie mood, with flickering flames and murmurs twisting inside my dreams. This is where I consider the thought that the house wields power over me, locking me in an eternal loop. It reigns supreme in my memory, a place I can never leave, no matter how much time passes. It's the ultimate twist, the house's unbreakable grip on me, and it feels like it'll never let go.

When I look back, I understand that those scary situations, although leaving me rattled, inspired something creative and long-lasting. This music allows me to process my concerns, transforming what was previously a source of anxiety into something artistic. It reminds me that even the most traumatic situations can shape who we are today.

So, while the mansion previously held me captive in dread, it now has a special place in my heart because it inspired my song. And, in some ways, it has finally allowed me to change roles—no longer the pawn, but the one who gets to tell the story.

Moving to WordPress

 Moving to WordPress

I have unpublished all my past blogs on here and I am in the process of updating my New Blog on Word Press. Please visit me there. mymarriedlifeinarkansas.wordpress.com

Let me know if the link does not work.

 It's One Big Headache!

[Verse 1]

Kids running wild, yelling so loud,

Chaos unleashed in my rowdy crowd.

Climbing the walls, smashing their toys,

My head’s pounding from all the noise.

[Bridge]

I need a quiet space, a break from the sound,

Just a little stillness, where peace is found.

This chaos inside, I can’t take much more,

I’m yearning for calm to settle the war.

[Verse 2]

My kitchen’s a warzone; it’s a sensory fight.

Garlic and onions—nothing smells right.

The trash is brewing its own parade,

Every whiff hits like a handgrenade.

[Chorus]

OH...My aching head, it’s about to explode.

Every sound adds another heavy load.

Just some peace and quiet, that’s all I crave.

To rescue me from this pounding wave.

[Verse 3]

My husband’s chatter just won’t cease.

A whirlwind of words, no sign of peace.

Blah Blah This! Blah Blah That!

Please, enough!—my brain’s gone flat.

[Chorus]

OH...My aching head, it’s about to explode.

Every sound adds another heavy load.

Just some peace and quiet, that’s all I crave.

To rescue me from this pounding wave.

[Outro]

This stupid song, it's a big mistake,

A pounding headache I just can't shake.

Singing this tune, my sanity's at stake,

It's driving me mad—It's one big headache!

 A Dance with a Stranger

The flashing lights danced on the checkered floor, pulsating with every beat of the music. The rhythm coursed through my body as though I was part of the song. People flickered like colored ghosts—red, blue, purple, white, yellow—disappearing into darkness when the beat stopped. A new pulse ignited an uproar, shaking the crowd into a frenzy. Bright dots shimmered and darted across the incandescent floor squares, chasing the pounding rhythm.

Making my way through the dance floor to our table, I caught sight of him sitting at a crowded table, talking but watching me. I smiled slightly and veered left to join my party. My newlywed husband of three months was dancing in the middle of a group of women, throwing 70s-style moves that no one uses anymore. I smirked at his foolishness, lifted my drink from the table, and took a long sip.

"What are you drinking?" a voice yelled over my shoulder. Turning, I saw the man from the table—pink lips under a finely trimmed mustache.

"Sex on the beach," I said, cheeks burning as he turned and walked toward the bar. His gait had an effortless charm. When he returned, he handed me a drink and sat beside me.

"What’s this?" I asked.

"Sex on the beach," he said with a grin. His dark brown eyes met mine, framed by slightly curly black hair. Before I could ask his name, he leaned closer. "Wanna dance?" he asked as the music shifted.

We hit the dance floor, the groove fast and exhilarating. There was no need for touching; our steps spoke louder. I had to look up to see his face. His mustache curved downward at the edges, and his chin, slightly pointy, was softened by a hint of stubble. His uniform—a pressed navy blue shirt and straight-legged pants adorned with shiny brass—hinted at his military rank. His eyes never left mine. As the music slowed, he took my hands, pulling me closer. The couples around us clung together, swaying to the soft melody.

"What’s your name?" he finally asked.

"Carol," I replied. "And yours?"

He tapped the name tag above his breast pocket. We danced until the music changed again, transitioning back to the high-energy beat. Time blurred as we moved together. 

When the night ended, he walked me back to my seat. My husband approached, kissed my cheek, and the man disappeared into the crowd without a word.

As we left, I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d met the man of my dreams—tall, dark, handsome, and in uniform. A stranger from out of town who, for one night, felt like destiny. 

The next day, my girlfriend told me he’d returned to the nightclub and asked about me. His name, etched on his uniform, stayed with me, unforgettable. But I never acted on my impulses. That moment faded, like the music, leaving only a bittersweet memory of what could have been.