Most people strive to leave their starting point, perhaps driven by a desire to explore the outside world, to go to school, to work, to travel. Our radius keeps expanding, and our perspective keeps opening up. No matter where we are, deep down inside, we always miss that warm place where we started.
Later on, all memories have become blurry, transformed into a source of power.
Having traveled a long way, been to many places, perhaps we want to find a piece of fertile land that belongs to us, subconsciously seeking cultural identity. There is always a sense of familiarity, familiar taste, similar scenes, reminding us of our initial self. However, once we leave, we will never go back. The wheels of time keep rolling forward, and when we return to our hometown, it is no longer the way we remember it. Both our hometown and ourselves are growing.
The newsstand on the street corner, the old man selling ice cream, have long disappeared in time, even our best friends have been worn down by life, adding wrinkles and experiences. Where is the hometown? Every one of us has nostalgia, a deep cultural nostalgia. Deep down, we are still the same as before. After crossing mountains and rivers, we have quietly assimilated into different cultures.
Leaving is for the purpose of returning. I just want to see the old me, is it still okay?
And this time, leaving is a farewell. The hometown exists eternally there, but the hometown in our hearts can never be returned to.