Philosophy

I hate philosophy. Those are meant to be written by great people and read by hopeless people. Here great stands for those renowned for their words of wisdom, more than half of which cannot be fathomed by more than half of the readers. And hopeless people stands for people who have lost all their hopes. This doesn't mean I am full of hope. No. On the other hand most of the time I am at the verge of falling apart and sometimes I even do. But even at the hour or utmost despair, not once I have been able to read philosophy. It sorts of repels when I am around. I would rather prefer to listen to a close friend who would crack a stupid joke to make me smile. It's not as if I haven't tried. But all kinds of philosophical books tempt me to dump them back two or three pages down the book. Is it really necessary for a third person to teach us the lessons of life? Don't we have enough of them already? Or do they help us get out of our dismay? If that's the case how does the author know what we are going through? We might very well relate to the emotions but isn't it different for each one of us how we deal with them? I really don't get it. I do understand that philosophy is not meant only for the sad times. But thinking of reading it while happy is out of question. Whatever be the case, I really appreciate people who can actually read philosophy, book to book, page to page, line to line and word to word.