Father working in the city, son wandering in the city.

Since I came to this city, I like to stare out of the window silently, overlooking the prosperity of this city and overlooking my hometown in the distance. Time flies, I never thought that I had left my hometown for many years. Counting the days that have passed like water, what is there in my heart except guilt? I position myself as a tourist, because my body is full of wandering cells, and I am going to a better future. Because I haven't achieved anything that makes my hometown proud of me, I don't have the capital to return home with clothes on, and I'm not old enough to return home to support the elderly. I am still wandering in other places. I am always wandering, thinking about my hometown, the place where I was born and raised, and I will leave that appearance in my memory. She will wait for me to return like a kind mother. One day, I will put aside all impetuousness and go back to her to look for childhood memories. That is my native land, with the most authentic soil fragrance. Every path there left my happy footprints. I stepped on the four seasons and sang all the country tunes my mother taught me. Every river is a paradise for me to play. I have drunk cool mountain springs and fished beautiful fish. Everyone there always gives me a friendly smile when I meet them. Whether you are poor or rich, you regard each other as close friends in our conversation. I love every flower, every grass, every roof and every ballad in my hometown. My hometown is a lighthouse in my heart. There are my relatives' ardent hopes for me, my hardworking parents with their backs to the loess, and my grandparents who always talk about the past. How many times have I heard my mother tell me to go home, my grandfather tell me to move a small stool, stories of heroes, and children in the village telling each other that they have found interesting places ... These wonderful memories are the most beautiful gifts from my hometown. I just hope I can return to her early and feel the special warmth in the local accent. However, just as I am drifting, so is my hometown. In addition to parents or parents in their hometown, people in their hometown are not necessarily people in their hometown. The scenery of my hometown is no longer the scenery of my hometown, and even the local accent is mixed with many strange things. The dusty wide road is no different from the road I saw in a foreign land. How can we find the footprints of childhood happiness? How many people want to "stay at a respectful distance from the Yellow River", and who wants to go down to the river to play with water and have fun? I can't find my childhood playmates because they are wandering around like me, seeking to return to my long-lost hometown in the near future. Maybe they haven't thought about it yet. Can they still know the changed hometown and find a taste in it? I'm far from home, and I'm a stranger to my hometown. I thought it was still the place where I could find it accurately on any map, or the place where I would be very excited when I heard it on the news, or the place where I would go to express every time I went home, but it wasn't. Like me, it's not where it was born. I don't know where it drifted when I got home. Those once humanistic landscapes and outstanding figures failed to stop the impact of material civilization and progress, and then drifted. My hometown can't hold for me, nor can it provide me with a harbor to dock. I have a wandering heart, but how to settle in my wandering hometown? Father working in the city, son wandering in the city, are you far away from home? Will your mind become stronger or weaker because of your departure? You don't understand the loneliness of others, the sadness in nicotine smoke, the pain in high alcohol, just as others never understand your homesickness for your loved ones. I can tell you what I miss, just like telling a distant story. As long as I can remember, I was destined to go abroad. When I was a child, I felt that my small hometown could not accommodate big dreams, so I would travel so far without hesitation. There are always parents and relatives in the luggage, and there are also the invasion of missing the bright moon in the dark. Day after day, year after year, I actually met a strange self on the Great Wall. When did you start to recognize your hometown, and when did you start to get lost in a foreign land? I'm sorry, I only know that in the end, when we no longer shout that youth is capital and claim that we have inexhaustible youth, we know what we have gained, paid and lost in order to grow. Looking back, we find that whether what we bought with a whole youth is what we want or not, the answer may only be known to ourselves. Will it be too different from what we expected? Perhaps in the process of growing up, we also have too much effort and too much understanding, but before we wake up, we have forgotten the future. Are we drifting with the tide and forgetting the purpose of our original departure? Just curious about what the outside world is like. Or for that big dream? Are those unfamiliar and familiar place names that have only been seen on the map over and over again as prosperous as those written in the text? There are wide roads, skyscrapers that need to be looked up to see, and countless amusement parks. Once imagined zebra crossings, traffic lights, ferris wheel. But I found that not all cities have fantastic ferris wheels. Walking in a crowded crowd, I found myself breathing black car exhaust and eating gutter oil, whether synthetic or sewer. What I saw at that time was man-made scenery, which was beautiful and real, but in the end I couldn't escape the man-made fact. Whether the book deceived us or we deceived ourselves. In this way, we, you and them are divided into me, you, him and strangers. People who have traveled across the ocean must have experienced their sudden silence in the noisy crowd when witnessing the reunion of others. Are you thinking about that distant little place, familiar fields, familiar starry sky, and your closest relatives? Only when you are confused can you finally be swallowed up by those flashing neon lights and deafening rock music. So indulge, so indulge, so waste in hope and disappointment year after year, until we are no longer young and frivolous. After returning to calm, being deceived, failing, losing and despairing, and having nowhere to tell us about our unspeakable growth, we realized that the only place where we can be accepted wirelessly is the small place where we once had great dreams, and the people who can selflessly tolerate our parents and relatives without complaint are the people we haven't called for a long time. To stay away from the small hometown that can't hold our big dreams, she has put down the grievances and tears we suffered when we drifted. For the sake of our selfless and tolerant parents, please don't hurt them when we grow up, and say "leave me alone" to them before we are sensible, for their selfless dedication. Autumn is getting cold, remember to give our warmth to those who care about us. This autumn, don't be in the sad embrace of autumn, be sure to remember the warmth and happiness that someone is waiting and waiting for. -addressed to us drifting.