Memories That Never Fade

I was born on August 21, 1978, in a small city called Jinchang in northwest China. It was a turbulent era, and the self-defense counterattack in the southwestern border of the motherland continued. Our life was not rich and unstable. Perhaps according to my idea, it was limited to food and clothing. When I can remember it, I feel that that era was an era full of green and blue, with some white embellishments from time to time, which were known as the flowers of the motherland and the rising sun. In my mind, it is the gray sky, a few roads that may now feel like they can be called roads, a few stores that do not have a hundred products in total and are called department stores, low earthen bungalows, a few two-story buildings, and a confidential unit code-named 886 that make up this poor and backward small town in the northwest. The dusty roads, the colors of blue and green, powder guns made of chains, glass beads, and the little pictures that were so bad that I couldn't bear to throw them away all made me laugh and grow together with this remote town. . . . . . As I walked along, when the desolation of the past was gone forever with the passing of time, and the noisy but not prosperous downtown had long since washed away the vicissitudes of time, leaving no trace of the past, an inexplicable panic came over me. . . . . . So I closed my eyes and saw the small town that accompanied me when I was growing up. When the joys and sorrows of my growth were passing through my mind like scenes in a movie, I laughed and burst into tears. I discovered that time can erase everything in this world, but it cannot erase my memory. It will always remain in my mind, my heart, and accompany me throughout my life. I guess I'm a nostalgic person. I think my memories will never fade. . . . . .