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刘蔚
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刘蔚
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之34—中国何时才能成为中国人的家园?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之35—伟大的全民大革命
·唤醒国人之36—为什么13亿中国人应平分共产党管区的财产?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之37—共产党管区的稳定比乱世更可怕
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之38—改革、不革命带来的流血比革命还多
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之39—还原革命的真相
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之40—城市居民最低生活保障是共产党给百姓画的一张饼
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之41—论革命的方式
·唤醒国人之42—共产党才是有史以来最邪恶的反革命,反动派
·唤醒国人之43—共产党才是最大的汉奸
·Awakening Chinese People 12—Thinking of June 4
·唤醒国人之44—亿万人民不需要去遵守共产党几个官员搞出来的法律
·唤醒国人之45—中国百姓的生活是变好了还是变苦了?
·Awakening Chinese People 16—the 1989 Democratic Movement
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之46—共产党管区围墙的功能
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之47—共产党说人们去挣钱的真相
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之48—我们几千年的祖先是看得起病的
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之49—我们的祖先几千年来都不存在上学难的问题
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之50—我是个普通百姓,真好
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之51—共产党管区家庭的功能
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之52—科学,信仰;强人,好人
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之53—用我们的整体优势对抗共产党的各个局部优势
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之54—共产党管区生活的三种人:吸血鬼、奴才、革命者
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之55—论对共产党不满的人士的质量
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之56—一朝枪在手,起义路上走
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之57—哪些是革命,反革命,反动派
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之58—为什么共产党反革命能在大陆打败国民党革命派?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之59—八九民运的不兴旺不是因为当年没有及时妥协
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之60—传单写好了
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之61—代中国百姓写的一封给联合国的信
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之62—人来到这个世界做什么?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之63—不要随大流
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之64—我们在这个世界上起怎样的作用?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之65—八九民运,十八年了
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之66—现在中国真正的民办媒体
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之67—共产党绑在人们身上的四道锁链
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之68—是谁害死了鼠尾草?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之69—2000年以来共产党管区每年的非正常死亡
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之70—普通人纪念六四的三个办法
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之71—今天活着的人不比六四死难者幸运
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之72—对八九民运各方的评价
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之73—谁是今天中国的精英?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之74—不参与高考、买房、炒股等活动才好
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之75—我们今天最需要参与的活动
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之76—不要让美好的信息在我这里停下来
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之77—共产党管区的经济在大幅退步
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之78—是谁在利用人?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之79—说说亲共人员对民主的攻击
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之80—相信人民的革命首创作用
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之81—十亿成年人平均就只有四百元人民币一个月
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之82—中国谁当政都一样吗?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之83—共产党的平反毫无意义
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之84—播放新闻联播时出去走一走
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之85—雷锋称不称得上好人?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之86—起义被镇压的后果
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之87—各起义军应该不会相互争战
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之88—谁在逃避,谁在尽责?
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之89—面对共产党的压榨,不应该中立
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之90—看中共媒体、民办媒体对重庆水灾的不同报道
·唤醒国人之91—共产党实行的是党书记专政
·唤醒国人之92—中国人生活困苦的两个根源
·唤醒国人之93—共产党的精神堕落建设
·唤醒国人之94—中国人当代的第一所民办大学
·Wei Liu: Awakening Chinese People 14—Who Are the Good Guys, Who Are the Bad Guys?
·Wei Liu: Awakening Chinese People 47—The Truth of the Communist Party’s Saying that Chinese People Go to Make Money
·唤醒国人之95—算算平均每年的物价涨幅
·唤醒国人之96—我就是要起义
·唤醒国人之97—可以用暴力革命结束共产党的统治
·唤醒国人之98—以和平革命结束共产党的统治是可能的
·唤醒国人之99—和平革命对参与者的要求不亚于暴力革命
·唤醒国人之100—怎样进行和平革命?
·唤醒国人之101—市镇起义发动时的景象
·刘蔚: 唤醒国人之102—市镇起义的意义
·唤醒国人之103—起义军不必担心共产党的核生化武器
·唤醒国人之104—参加市镇起义的人员
·唤醒国人之105—市镇起义两个月时的景象
·唤醒国人之106—天下大乱才好
·唤醒国人之107—起义四年后的景象
·唤醒国人之108—市镇起义的可行性
·唤醒国人之109—共产党管区人们的五大误区
·唤醒国人之110—民主平等的新中国创业难
·唤醒国人之111—民主平等的新中国守业不难
·唤醒国人之112—用常识判断消息的可信度
·唤醒国人之113—我们今天维权应有的方向
·唤醒国人之114—“斗地主”是中国人生活困苦的开端
·唤醒国人之115—共产党的阶级论就是特权论
·唤醒国人之116—中国颜色革命的颜色
·唤醒国人之117—颜色革命的活动
·唤醒国人之118—大陆色情业泛滥显示的是民不聊生
·唤醒国人之119—从没有一寸土地到有一千平方米的土地
·唤醒国人之120—有这样的搬家才好
·唤醒国人之121—每人领取一份土地不会使人口增长
·唤醒国人之122—人靠父母养活还是靠老天养活?
·唤醒国人之123—共产党管区是1%的富人和99%的穷人
·唤醒国人之124—医治中国贫富悬殊的良药
·唤醒国人之125—抽签领取土地中的事项
·唤醒国人之126—住房地、商用地应该不会占用现有的耕地
·唤醒国人之127—人人一份地,人人不再穷
·唤醒国人之128—还要在共产党设定的环境里捞一笔吗?
·唤醒国人之129—女人不要再去卖身了
·唤醒国人之130—男人不要就想着女人的肉体
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Wei Liu: My Life in China 1.1: 180 Square Feet Home Filled up With Fur


   Wei Liu: My Life in China 1.1: 180 Square Feet Home Filled up With Furniture
   
   The Series Books of My Life in China
   

   Wei Liu April 2013
   
   Foreword
   
   Common people write memoir or autobiography too. As a common person lived in China, when I write it, some people around me say, “You are not celebrity. Who will read your autobiography?” If someone says to them, “You are just inferior,” they must feel so incensed, but in their heart, don’t they just regard themselves as inferior? I believe in that all people are equal to each other. And my autobiography writing about the ups and downs of common people, with the grand political and economic events that affect people’s life, which will appeal to common people more than books not focused on therein.
   
   Literature, by the norm of whether its scenes actually happened or not, is divided into two big categories: non-fiction and fiction. Non-fiction including autobiography, memoir, and other writings on things happened. Fiction is novel. Prose is an unclear category and should be cancelled. So literature is not just novel. Someone says, “This year I read 40 novels.” Are all the 40 books imagined scenarios?” Outside the Window by the Taiwan writer Yao Qiong is her autobiography, nonfiction, not fiction, not novel. If the reader cannot tell whether a work is happened or imagined, he may just say, “This year I read 40 literary works.” Anyway, the series books of My Life in China is my, Wei Liu’s memoir, autobiography, and of course belong to nonfiction.
   
   It is not quite possible to require anything to be 100%. There is hardly 100% consent or 100% against. Let’s use 50% as the demarcation. Over 50% or mostly consent is consent; over 50% or mostly against is against. The same, if over 50% of the words in a work actually happened, then it is nonfiction; if over 50% of the words in a work is imagined, then it is fiction, which is usually called novel.
   
   In this book series, except myself, other people around me are only mentioned by their last name, not their first name. They know who they are. My words depict the life of me, as a common person in China and render the solution for the 1.3 billion Chinese people to free ourselves from the hardships and oppressions and to finally have a happy life. Everybody is welcome to spread or publish my writings. Once you do not charge the reader, you don’t need to pay me, the author, anything. According to the international convention, the works educating or serving the public, like the book series of My Life in China may cite other works and are not confined by the copyright. Wish all who consent the ideas of the human rights and democracy, spread these ideas to one or more people every month, to save yourself, to save China, to let the world have more peace and happiness.
   
   The end of the foreword.
   
   Book 1: From Birth to the Graduation of Elementary School
   
   My Life in China 1.1: 180 Square Feet Home Filled up With Furniture
   
   In late April 1970, I was born in the No. 1 Workers’ Hospital, Lianglukou, Urban District, Chongqing, China. My father is a doctor in this hospital. So the hospital is both the place I was born and the place where my home is. My mother has a last name of He. In China, women do not change their last names after marriage, which I like. She is a teacher in No. 52 High School, Guihuayuan, Chongqing, China. My last name Liu is from my father’s last name Liu. My home is in a 3-floor building, which is the hospital dormitory for its employees. The wall of the building is the grayish cement and the ceiling is made of gray tiles, forming two slopes arched in the center. The doors open to the inside corridor, invisible from outside. From outside, people see a line of big square windows, 4 feet long and wide, no balconies. The building faces north and south. Each window from the two sides lives a family.
   
   Little, little me is held, carried, or guided into the second floor of the building. The top floor or the third floor is the auditorium of the hospital. “Ka, ka, ka—” descending down several wooden steps, turning to the left, walking to the end of the dingy corridor, then turning to the left is the door of my home. My home lies on the northeast corner of this building.
   
   The door is dark brown. In front of it is a 5 square feet greasy yellow cloth curtain. My dad or mom lifts the curtain, opens the door, and then a room filled up with varied furniture come to my scope. This is a room about 180 square feet, with about 18 feet in the north-south direction and 10 feet in the east-west direction.
   
   After entering the door, beginning from the southwest corner is a dark brown bamboo shelf, on which my mom and dad have put so many stuff that I never know. Next furniture to the north is a greasy dark brown cupboard, in which there are several china bowls. A crib is beneath the cupboard. On the top of the cupboard are 4 thermoses. In China, the tap water cannot be drunk. If people do, we will get sick.
   
   The next furniture on the west wall to the north is a wardrobe that contains all the clothes of our family. Its facade is bight brown paint, with the upper left corner being a black pine tree, which is a Chinese painting. Its right side is a big mirror that distorts everything. By looking at it, I never know whether I look beautiful or ugly. The big wardrobe is the only good-looking furniture in the room.
   
    The next furniture on the west wall to the north is a queen size bed. My mom, my dad and I, we three sleep on it until I reached 11 years old. There is no enough space on the bed. So my dad put 3 stools by the bedside, lying a part of his body on them.
   
    Further to the north is the north window, facing the 5-floor ward building of the hospital, where my Dad works.
   
    Now we move to the east wall. The northeast corner is a pentagon book cabinet, which contains several hundred books of my mom and dad.
   
    On the east wall the next furniture to the south is a 9-drawer desk, 3 feet tall, dark brown. My Dad calls it 9-drawer desk for it has 9 drawers, with 4 on each side and 1 in the center. By this desk, my Mom and Dad have spent many hours, reading. I’m too short to use it then. Before 1981 when I reached 11 and my home moved to the new residential building of the hospital, it had been the desk for my Mom and Dad.
   
   The furniture in my home is one next to the other, with no fissure in between. On the east wall the next furniture to the south is the flat cabinet, my Dad calls it that way. Its upper right corner is the 1 square foot mobile glass door. That is my favorite place—the candy place, but I seldom see any candy there.
   
   On the flat cabinet is a 12-inch black-white TV and a radio, which our family listen to the broadcasting story at lunch every day. 3 feet away from the flat cabinet in the center of the room is the round table—the dinner table of our family. The round table itself looks shabby with fissures running across the dark red top, but the white tablecloth and the glass place on it makes it look nice.
   
   Back to the flat cabinet, on the east wall the next furniture to the south is two bamboo chairs with an end table in between. My mom and dad use them to accommodate the guests. When the guests sit on them, the two bamboo chairs often shake. Behind them is the east window, with the window being 4 feet long and wide.
   
   On the east wall the next furniture to the south is the sewing machine. My mom does not use it often for she is not good at it. In front it is a short desk, about 1.4 feet tall, with blue and black ink trace on it. That is my desk. When I was 5 to7, I draw on my small desk. After the small desk, we return back to the door again.
   
   The wall and the ceiling of the room look white, old, with fissures in many places. The floor is wooden, having the color of red, black and gray, irregularly being together. The original paint is red. In some places, especially under the bed, there are dark holes. From time to time, we can hear the mice coming out and in from there. These are all the stuff in my home.

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