Why do I keep dreaming about an infinite library filled with books I cannot read?

Lately, I have been trapped in this recurring sequence where I find myself wandering through a vast, silent library. The shelves stretch into the rafters, illuminated by this weird, amber-colored light, and every book I pull off the shelf is completely blank. It feels so incredibly visceral; I can smell the old parchment and hear my footsteps echoing on the marble floor. It is starting to frustrate me because I am a researcher by trade and I thrive on data, yet my subconscious is giving me literally nothing to work with. Is this just my brain failing to render the dream environment properly, or is it a sign of intellectual burnout? I have tried keeping a detailed dream journal, but the sheer lack of content in these dreams is driving me up the wall. Has anyone else experienced a recurring dream where the primary sensation is just profound confusion or a total lack of meaningful interaction? I am curious if this represents a subconscious barrier or just some random firing of neurons after a long day of reading papers.