TWH Spain: Tom Hiddleston: "My vampire is like a rocker from the sixties, Hamlet in the body Syd Barret."

twhspain:

by MARKO NJEGIĆ.
Translation from Croatian to English by Google Trasnlate, (via @starfishncoffee)

Interview with the Vampire Tom Hiddlestonom we made​a day after the screening of the film “Only lovers left alive,” Jim Jarmusch, one of the most distinctive of the official competition at Cannes…

 

Via:visualartistsuk

PHOTO:DAVID CLERIHEW

botsoftheworld:

Lin. Sanity. by Giles Li (words) and Ash Hsie (video) @ atthehipproductions.

i’m standing at the front of the room
again
forcing this world to create itself around me
and it feels like this is all that i’ve ever been
just a mouth
a mike
and a dusty spotlight
dry-throat lip smacking with self-doubt
breath drowning in expectations
another night spent begging a room for faces approval
so i can feel fleeting valuable
i’m still trying to define my works to the world
through finger-snaps and head nods and handshakes after the show
it’s no accident that i spend my weekends here
excavating wounds for broken
hidden wings
in front of any audience who’ll watch me
even strangers
especially strangers
faces that don’t look like mine

maybe
something in me is broken
that i can see my own reflection in the rows of eyes and concerned smiles
but i can’t see my own reflection
in the mirror
that when i’m on stage
i’m still just that twenty year old overpractice
undercompenstating kid stumbling his way through an open mike
holding the cord between my thumbs and insecurities
trusting the spotlight to hold me up
when there was nothing left in me to stay standing

onstage
i’m still six
wishing my grandmother would stop walking outside
so the neighborhood kids would stop singing us chingchong serenades
when i stayed in
with afternoon cartoons turned up loud so i could pretend
i imagine

onstage
i’m still ten
searching the block for my family’s shoes
after they were stolen from outside our front door
thrown in barrels
hidden under cars
when i learned *i* couldn’t take a joke

onstage
i’m still fourteen
and trying to remember how to get home after being bullied
and bloodied
by kids who thought it was clever to shout the names of different chinese food dishes
each time a sneaker
or fist fell toward my face
or chest
or throat

onstage
i remember every time
i was nothing more than my father’s stubborn accent
nothing more than the oily unventilated smell from my mother’s kitchen
nothing more than ornate dashboard decorations on the beatup cutlist
nothing more than these ugly narrow eyes flatpunched in noses downturned lips
[…] this disgusting mottled skin

onstage
i remember what it’s like to hate anyone with the same color
who share a last name
a story
a slur

what it’s like to know if i’m not the villian
the most i can be is a sidekick
hearing it from playground superheroes
from the blond girl who broke my heart
from textbooks
war movies
enemies and friends would-be presidents
magazine covers
facebook feeds
onstage
i know what it’s like to so desperately want self-worth
that i’d ask everyone i could find to give it to me

but
at home
i don’t know any of that

at home
i sit with kids
amazed
and watch my same narrow eyes
same downturned mouth
playing ball under bright lights
in new york
and i imagine he had the same doubts
same fits of insomnia
same sinking in the stomach
that he fuels himself on the court
by remembering little fists
remembering chingchong serenades
jokes about his family
who has probably lost count
of all the voices who said he shouldn’t be here

his rise to stardom doesn’t fix the world for my daughter and son
but maybe the load on his shoulders lift the ones of theirs a little
and maybe they’ll learn to be motivated by pride
and not embarrassment
and maybe they will grow up believing in their own story
and maybe they won’t need to go on the same search i did
where i ended up here
at the front of the room
broken
trying my best to raise children
that are whole

so jeremy
no matter how many loss in a row
no matter how many turnovers
no matter how many insulting headlines played out race jokes
no matter how low the lows
no matter how many times your name gets spit back in your face
as a slur
a threat
an insult
no matter what happens next
in this thrilling
beautiful
ride

just remember
i’m
still
your biggest fan

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