Demian pra quem quiser, em inglês. É o mesmo livro, só que no wattpad facilita a leitura. + algumas coisas relacionadas com as letras e os MVs que acrescentarei com a leitura, pra organizar os pensamentos mesmo.
I posted this on wattpad mostly so th...
I shall begin my story with an experience I had when I was ten and attended our small town's Latin school.
The sweetness of many things from that time still stirs and touches me with melancholy: dark andwell-lighted alleys, houses and towers, chimes and faces, rooms rich and comfortable, warm and relaxed,rooms pregnant with secrets. Everything bears the scent of warm intimacy, servant girls, household remedies,and dried fruits.
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The realms of day and night, two different worlds coming from two opposite poles, mingledduring this time.
My parents' house made up one realm, yet its boundaries were even narrower, actually embracing only my parents themselves. This realm was familiar to me in almost every way--mother andfather, love and strictness, model behavior, and school. It was a realm of brilliance, clarity, and cleanliness,gentle conversations, washed hands, clean clothes, and good manners.
"I'm trapped inside of myself and I'm dead" - Similar to "Save Me" (end of the short film)
This was the world in which morning hymns were sung and Christmas celebrated. Straight lines and paths led into the future: there were duty and guilt, bad conscience and confession, forgiveness and good resolutions, love, reverence, wisdom and the words of the Bible. If one wanted an unsullied and orderly life, one made sure one was in league with this world.
The other realm, however, overlapping half our house, was completely different; it smelled different,spoke a different language, promised and demanded different things. This second world contained servantgirls and workmen, ghost stories, rumors of scandal. It was dominated by a loud mixture of horrendous,intriguing, frightful, mysterious things, including slaughterhouses and prisons, drunkards and screeching fishwives, calving cows, horses sinking to their death, tales of robberies, murders, and suicides.
All these wildand cruel, attractive and hideous things surrounded us, could be found in the next alley, the next house. Policemen and tramps, drunkards who beat their wives, droves of young girls pouring out of factories at night, old women who put the hex on you so that you fell ill, thieves hiding in the forest, arsonists nabbed by countrypolice--everywhere this second vigorous world erupted and gave off its scent, everywhere, that is, except in our parents' rooms.
