Leaving Caesar’s Stadium: Games We No Longer Cheer For
Me outside the Colosseum - 2023
I know I’ve thought this before. We all have, maybe. I understood it to a degree…
Maybe it’s because I don’t watch sports but now in Spain I find myself having to pay, somewhat, more attention…
I’m watching sports.
The Game:
We got country teams.
We have party teams.
We’re just lining people and events up like plays—hoping our guy, our team wins, our version of the world wins… the whole damn thing.
And then you get an end-of-game prize, just not a trophy, but a title:
“World peace”.
“World domination”.
With monetary rewards.
And then some of us are just out here betting and laughing at the other team (Everyone here is laughing at US).
You’re watching an empire under stadium lights—
wondering if the game ends in peace or collapse.
And some of us are out here barefoot in the forest going:
“…y’all know you can leave the arena, right?”
The Arena:
Outside Caesar’s stadium. Still standing. Still watching.
I mean, yes, our infrastructure is set up right now where it’s virtually impossible to leave the empire’s stadium.
Need prescriptions?
IDs, visas, access to care, infrastructure…
Even protest—even living differently—becomes legible through the empire’s rules. Some of us watch from the crowd. Others are dragged into the arena just for existing—queer, trans, disabled, too loud, too soft, too much.
One day you can marry.
The next, you can’t.
One day you can save your loved one.
The next, it’s the death of you . Your family too.
The Refusal:
But.
You can refuse to play the game their way.
Sit in the stands with your back turned.
Train in the woods for a strength the arena cannot measure.
Build myth and ritual outside the stadium lights.
But you can choose:
• Which parts of the empire you engage with deliberately.
• What games you opt out of (consumerism, productivity worship, performative outrage).
• Where to build parallel structures—garden, community, story, spirit.
Jesus said you pay onto Caesar what is Caesar’s…
Caesar always wants more—
He will call you back into the arena.
Beyond the Roar:
Butterflies on Wildflowers
But if you’ve practiced stillness beyond the arena’s roar,
You won’t lose yourself in the noise.
Not everyone gets to choose their role in the game.
But we can still choose who we become—
And what we cheer for.
And maybe—one day—when enough people stop cheering…
There won’t be a game left to play.
No game to cheer for—only silence and maybe a different game.
And maybe, in that silence,
we’ll remember what it meant to play together—
before the scoreboard.
Before the spectacle.
You pay onto Caesar what is Caesar’s…
But remember Caesar always wants more.
You are not the game.
You are not the roar.
Not the bull.
Not the lion.
Our gladiators—
Slaves to the empire—
Slain.
Our weary, disabled, innocent—
Loved—
Made spectacle.
If you’ve practiced stillness outside the arena,
You won’t lose yourself in the roar.
You are not the game.
You are not the weapon.
Not the hunger.
Not the roar.
And if enough people stop cheering…
There may be no game left to play.
The people—
Remembered.
The colosseum—
Forgotten.
Who are you—
Outside the stadium?