hipster hostel

It felt like the beginning of a new dream. I really felt like I was aware of the transition.

I felt that the environment was like my room now where my sister is just next to me. But it felt more like we were in some other house on this hill. And the house was open faced. It also felt like a hostel because there were all these people coming into our house.

I was in the bathroom, which was upstairs, and then this woman (or was it women, because I always saw one when I saw the other) wanted to use the shower. The two women were in there 50s or 60s; they wore black eye make-up, and wore corsets. They were very large in bust and hip and well everywhere. But they had small eyes. One had raven black hair and the other had bleached blonde hair. So one of them (or was it both of them) wanted to use the shower.

I got out of the bathroom, went downstairs, and looked around our house. There were all of these people in our house and it felt like it was some sort of hostel, except all the people there were hipsters.

The first person I talked to was this guy. When he walked by I touched his shoulder and the fabric of his shirt felt really nice so whenever he would pass my way I would touch his shoulder. It was weird of me to be doing that but I couldn’t help it. He hated me for that, though.

There was this other person there that I remember. She was from South America I think and her ears were really weird. When she would turn her head the back and bottom of her ears were shaped like a squiggly orange balloons.

I couldn’t understand why all these people were there. It felt so crowded in my dream. Trying to remember is hard and it’s all starting to fade now. Oh well.