A Weepy

A weepy movie. I have been watching a movie on TV, a love story about a girl named Sabrina. I fall for it every time; yes, I know the technicality of filming but still believe the story. Yes, I know it is about upper class love, the chauffeur’s daughter, and the son of the house. They end up in Paris, where else? Nothing mundane about the film, like, can I afford a flight ticket to Paris? Money problem kills love. Last year my wife and I took a coach to Paris 36 hours– we are divorced now-. We spent so much time finding a place to eat and sleep we had little time to see the sights. Saw the Eiffel tower though, you could build a ship with all that iron. It disturbed me, the Unknown Soldier’s grave; eternal flame. Soldiers died for business interests and the lust for power. Wish this was the only truth, fact is young men like killing each other, they just need someone to say it’s legal. In Paris I read poetry in defense of the Palestinians, for an audience of Jewish people, but since they didn’t understand Norwegian they applauded. For a moment I was a star on the firmament of vanity. I will not be back to Paris again, less I can afford to drink a bottle of expensive wine.