逸格
My hometown is a place where the sea once shaped life’s every rhythm. At dusk, tricycles carry home the scent of salt and fish, while abandoned boats, their hulls cracked like forgotten stories, rest at the foot of the hills. The market walls whisper in fading murals—dragons and carps, symbols of fortune, peeling with time. In the reflection of a weathered scooter’s mirror, a fishing vessel drifts, caught between departure and return. Nets heavy with barnacles sway in the sun, relics of hands that once cast them into the tides.
But as the waves retreat, so does the past. The streets I knew crumble under demolition’s weight, and memory flickers in the dust. Before the last fragments vanish, I step into the ruins of an old photography studio—the same one that once held my childhood within its frames. Among shattered glass and forgotten portraits, I find a small box, its surface marked with the words “sweet home.”
Home is slipping, dissolving like footprints at the water’s edge. Yet even as my childhood dreamscape fades, a new one rises from the ruins. This is an ongoing project, a journey of returning and rediscovering, as I continue to trace the fragile yet enduring ties between memory and transformation. The road back is uncertain, shifting like tides, but I know—it is safe, even when it runs into the ocean.
But as the waves retreat, so does the past. The streets I knew crumble under demolition’s weight, and memory flickers in the dust. Before the last fragments vanish, I step into the ruins of an old photography studio—the same one that once held my childhood within its frames. Among shattered glass and forgotten portraits, I find a small box, its surface marked with the words “sweet home.”
Home is slipping, dissolving like footprints at the water’s edge. Yet even as my childhood dreamscape fades, a new one rises from the ruins. This is an ongoing project, a journey of returning and rediscovering, as I continue to trace the fragile yet enduring ties between memory and transformation. The road back is uncertain, shifting like tides, but I know—it is safe, even when it runs into the ocean.
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