Poor Danny, the world has got to him today. It happens to people like him, people who are sensitive, educated, artistic, and have travelled a great deal, seen the ancient civilizations of Eygpt, Greece, Rome, Persia....or what's left of them, trod where all those long-departed, long-forgotten people have trod; and had far too much time to think, to reflect on mortality.
Unlike him, I haven't travelled much. I'm glad. My world is much smaller than his, more composite, more understandable: bingo, knitting, going to the shops, having my hair done once a week, doing my gardening. It not that exciting but it's what many of the people in the world do each day. Some, less lucky than me, don't even get to do that. For them each day is often an ordeal.
Danny's world, his imaginary world, the one he wished existed, is filled with fine ideals, with unbending loyalty, with equality and love and peace and fairness. These things rarely exist in the real world, I tell him, this beautiful, chaotic world with its often ugly people.
Resultantly, Danny is frequently disappointed. Most of the time he feels like a round peg in a square hole. To tell the truth, he just doesn't belong in this world! Never has.
He's drinking some red wine currently and will retire early. Tomorrow, because of his underlying optimism, his wish to make things better, he'll rise up and furiously tilt at windmills once again.
I'll be there to support him.