Lair of Flying Green Song Rabbits

I had another nightmare about my insecurities and such last night/this morning. It costed me 1 hour of sleep + lecture, and left me feeling uncomfortable for the rest of the day.
Sometimes I wish dreaming was less revealing of one's inner psyche.
They're becoming easier and easier to read. Perhaps I'm getting to know myself better...or maybe I've hit the bottom of my own depths. (Which, I must confess, is simply two different ways of saying the same thing)

Either way, feel free to read on...



The first thing I remember, is waiting in a sanitised environment with my 'friends'. Nameless, faceless, generic people I felt comfortable around. People I talked to, laughed with. We were in line, queuing for something. But not together - I was in front.

After an undefined amount of time, I was called in. It seemed that I was to get a stomach operation. I had no idea what they were going to do, but apparently it was going to make everything all better...
So I lay down on the operating table - a rusted metal table surrounded by tall bars on every side, reminiscent of dirty animal cages at abattoirs... The 'doctors' strapped me down with metal plates and dirty leather straps. I was nervous about having my stomach cut open to solve its problem, but then I remembered that they should administer anaesthesia before operating.
Then they told me to wait as they fetched something.

So I waited. Many people passed by - and I don't know whether I could hear thoughts or whether the idiots were just mumbling to themselves as they travelled - but I listened to many different peoples' problems and secrets as they passed by me. The same people would come back time and again, letting me in onto their lives and their troubles. They came and went, one by one. Each one I would get to know as intimately as they themselves did.
Yet as fascinating as this was, I was still strapped down on a suspicious operating table, and the doctors were still gone.
They had promised to return 'soon', where were they?

Finally, somehow, all the people I had gotten to know the problems of were gathered together. Around me, beside me, and never noticing each other or myself - too withdrawn and concerned with themselves. With all of them muttering about their own woes, I couldn't take it.
I snapped and I addressed each of them with solutions. With inspiration with ideas and with reality. How trivial their problems were, how easily they could be solved.
With everything coming to light, I could see the life returning to each and every individual. This, I then realised, was my 'power' - my 'ability'.
It was so satisfying, seeing these previously troubled people finally smiling. But that was when they left. They all went their separate ways, without a second glance at me.
I was alone once more.
I helped all these other people solve their problems - but my own problem remained. But I knew these people well enough by now, I knew none of them were doctors, none of them could help me.
The one person that could, had left with no sign of return.

I couldn't even help myself.