This is another note I found when looking through a (physical) notepad I carry with me. I most likely wrote it sometime in 2023.
Seeing the colosseum in-person was a dream.
Growing up, history classes taught that it was the center of social life in a great empire. Events we can hardly imagine today were commonplace. It was the seat of glory, spectacle, and masculinity. It's the kind of place young boys fantasize about. And, honestly, fully grown men, too.
People speak of it being awe-inspiring. They say its presence is imposing. They say its connection with legends is energizing. When people visit, they stick out their fists and give a thumbs-up or thumbs-down, assuming the power to seal some gladiator's fate. Others stand in the arena sand and raise their arms in victory, imagining the raucous crowd adoring them.
I don't know what's happened to me in the years since my youth.
When I saw the colosseum in-person, I wasn't filled with awe.
In fact, I didn't even feel moved enough to go inside.
Maybe it was the dense crowd of tourists all around.
There just wan't any adventure to it. There wasn't any excitement.
I love history. It blows my mind how the events of the past brought us into the present.
So, why didn't I feel anything when I stood in front of this hallowed place?
It felt disconnected. It felt static.
Maybe it was because I've traveled and seen different parts of the world at this point. Maybe the novelty of certain things just wears off.
Maybe it has to do with where I place value. Glory has its appeal, but not in the way it once did. I'm much more interested in the complexities of living and what it means to be human. In the seemingly mundane struggles of day-to-day life.
I'm also more interested in action. I'm interested in exploring and discovering. I like an element of uncertainty. I'm animated by the excitement of discovery and learning.
