#rome burning

[adorablenonsense]

I’m finally using my Rome Burning wax melt in the bathroom. Every night, I turn on my wax warmer to use as a nightlight and just to have a pleasant scent to wake up to in the morning. Out of my wax melts, Rome Burning was the stinkiest because it’s the smell of Rome Burning from Spaceship Earth in Epcot. My husband can’t stand the smell since it’s monstrously strong. He doesn’t know it’s in the wax warmer. I can smell it through the bathroom door. He’s going to be so upset when he goes into the bathroom tomorrow morning.

[ancientstuff]

Was the fiddler framed? How Nero may have been a good guy after all

He was a demonic emperor who stabbed citizens at random and let Rome burn. Or was he? We go behind the scenes at a new show exploding myths

A rethink of Nero as the quintessential bad Roman emperor.

[papersburning]

i tried writing about her once. her cold grey eyes, and white marble lips. i tried writing about her, her left leg reached for the back of her head and her right arm reached for the sun. she had hair messily bound and a gaze that reached out. i tried writing about her once. when i touch the stone that had encased a girl, i swear i can feel the ghost of the hands that sculpted her like this. i think, sometimes, that it was not just the two hands of the sculptor i had felt. i feel more hands, more people who have existed from the beginning until forever. across time and space. i tried writing about her, once. i described her then as a woman trapped in stone, but i know now how wrong i was. she was not trapped, but she was there. she had eyes that spoke and called a name i never knew i had. i tried writing about her, once. her hand was cold when i reached up to grab it, to slip my fingers into the ones the ever reached to the sky, light from the windows illuminating the desperation on her face. i tried writing about her, once. she was warm where the sun hit her, warm where i left mine own hands before the cold set in. she seems like she exists somewhere else. somewhere where she finished her dance and could twirl and leap gracefully in her flowing marble gown. i tried writing about her. she belongs to another place. i tried writing about her, and i still don't know what to say. all i know is what i see when i find her in my mind, for when i had finally made it to her house again, she had gone away. i dreamt about her, once, her and her longing eyes and the fires in Rome burning. i dream for her and the music that was played and the final, pleading dance before her body gave way. to ash, i say, or stone, i guess. i tried writing about her, but it never seems to work. her body is a dream and her life is not my own, nor one that belonged where i had found her in that home. i dreamt about her and vinegar and fire and the salty wine-dark sea. i tried writing about her, once,  now i only dream, dream of dust and lyres and dancing in Sicily. but i yesterday i still dream. and tonight i still dream. and tomorrow i still dream. so i started to write about her, again, finally.

[clstories61-blog]

Popular depiction of Nero singing with a lyre as Rome burned during the Great Fire in 64AD. Incidentally, this scenario most likely never happened according to modern historians and was most likely influenced by later accounts/portrayals by Christian writers and political opponents of the late emperor. 

[adorablenonsense]

It’s hard to sleep when all I smell is Rome Burning!

[bryansm]

New acquisition.

Noodler’s Ink Rome Burning

[bungleboobs]

Fun fact