My Dream House and other Miscellany

Pinterest, the only social network on the internet that I still truly enjoy. Facebook just annoys me. And Twitter, I never quite got the hang of that. Google +, what’s the point? Instagram, yet another enigma. But Pinterest I understand. I’ve even become a minor, celebrity pinner of sorts. Probably very minor in the scope of things. Just last week I got 178 re-pins. That’s a lot in my opinion. Apparently, there are at least 178 people on Earth who like exactly same things that I like.

Pinterest is perhaps the perfect social network. It attracts extroverts and introverts alike. I’m an introvert and what I like about Pinterest is the social distance it puts between me and other pinners. I pin an image, someone (a stranger somewhere else in the world) likes it and re-pins it. That’s it. End of social interaction. Usually. It surprises me sometimes when someone (usually someone I do know in the world) responds to something I pin with a comment. What? It throws me off balance for a bit but I recover.

I do feel a sort of kinship with those who re-pin my pins. I have more recently, ever since my minor celebrity status, felt a sort of obligation to them. I feel like I need to search Pinterest daily for just the right pins. I don’t want to pin just anything. I want to pin something my fellow pinners want to see and re-pin. Yes, at the end of the day the actual thought goes through my mind: Did I pin anything of interest today?

Today I pinned this: h4_upload

It quite literally is my dream house. No, I don’t wish to live there. It’s just that when I saw it I remembered a dream I had several years ago. I can’t remember much about the dream now except that it had a house that looked a lot like this house, but the house was in much better repair in my dreams. Apparently this particular house can be found in Virginia. I’ve never been to Virginia. Perhaps in my dreams I have.

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One thought on “My Dream House and other Miscellany

  1. One can only imagine the stories that were formed in this beautiful home. Kinda reminds me of me as I age and there is not much beauty on the outside but the stories on the inside are perking away. It’s kind of like a saying I heard once that likened the death of an “old” person to losing a library with priceless books on its shelves.

    Like

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