Umm...who told you about my 'mind of a literary genius'? I swear, that head-in-a-jar was like that when I found it...just because she's wearing glasses might not mean she is a writer or such...sure, the hair-do is kind bookish, but the lipstick gives it away: she's from the fifties, man. She's a bobby-soxer. Swing it, baby!
Okay...so we can read all kinds of philosophy books, religious books, psychology books, adventure-romance-comedy-thriller-detective-mystery books, but what do they do if we don't put any of them into practice? They are just stuck inside the head, aren't they? Unless you bring some of them out to see how they work in your real life. Oh, the years of play I have had in taking on the character of such-n-such for a few moments at a time, and intrigued a lady just enough that she asks me out again. It's all just amusement until it gets serious...all of those things written by professionals and amateurs alike lets us mimic them when we desire to.
And you are right in how a mind can torture itself over something it isn't equipped to understand. So...did I ever tell you about a definition for religion? Yeah yeah...'belief in the self'. All of these 'beliefs' are the advertising of someone's own belief! No, really! It's true! Just ask someone...anyone involved in religion or philosophy or psychology, even the entertainment world and music world and everything...folks get an idea about something and test it and perfect it and then release it out to the world and make something off it. Look at God in the garden of Eden...he said to a nice, young couple that it was okay for him to walk around clothed and they naked, and that they were the only people anywhere so name all these animals that...snigger, snigger...umm, are unique here to this place. And oh! By the way: if you wise up, I'll have to spank you 'cause I get cranky sometimes, so you better behave.
Well, we know what happened, don't we...the world was full of people and there was more than one cranky old man about! Ah sheesh...yeah, good one. Had me fooled for a while...and that nice young couple went on to have all kinds of children and grand children and, well, some turned out well, others not so much so. Anyway, sometimes it is better to leave cranky old men in their parks, surrounded by their pigeons they feed from a park bench, just waiting for a passerby to strike a conversation up with about 'I remember the day when I controlled an army and now I get wet pants when I sneeze...hardly control anything these days...'
You know what's better than worrying whether you are being taken for a ride or not, Tom? Going to a coffee shop with a nice book, sitting at a table for half an hour at the same time twice a week, having two cups or whatever-takes-your-fancy, and half listening to the conversations of people around you. You realize that folks have more problems than you ever will. And leave a nice tip...not for the waitress but for the lady you don't know is doing the same thing as you. She likes the quiet confidence of a generous soul who is too timid to look up around themself.