Mille Et Un Sentiments (301-400)

Mille Et Un Sentiments (301-400)

after Hervé Le Tellier's Mille pensées

301.         I feel like I've hit pay dirt.
302.         I feel like writing about dirt-eating, also known as pica or                 geography.
303.         I feel I was sickest when I would actually weigh myself every                 time I went into the bathroom, even in the middle of the night.
304.         I feel that maybe I shouldn't write about pica since I am not a                 dirt-eater myself.
305.         I feel fascinated, though, by this dirt-eating concept.
306.         I feel that food has really fucked me up.
307.         I feel that, in some ways, society is to blame.
308.         I feel, rather, that I have fucked up with food.
309.         I feel dirty when we have loud sex.
310.         I feel like riding on the back of your dirt bike.
311.         I feel fascinated when I read geography is universal.
312.         I feel bad that I used to blame my mother.
313.         I feel like I don't blame anyone anymore, even myself.
314.         I feel bad about the time I had the stupid boy in college drink a                 screw-driver with his own cigarette ashes in it.
315.         I feel amazed that he swallowed and didn't know the difference.
316.         I feel, as I said, that I am not a dirt-eater--although Kaopectate,                 Di-gel, Rolaids, Mylanta, and Maalox all contain clays (or                 kaolin) or calcium carbonate which has been isolated from the                 earth mass.
317.         I feel as though I may have known an urban dirt-eater. I had a                 friend who was always swilling down Mylanta in her twenties. I                 think that's what it was--it came in a blue bottle. So odd.
318.         I feel my memory may be a little muddy.
319.         I feel, now that I think about it, that I actually did once eat                 dirt--I think I put a spoon into the ground under the swing set                 and took a bite.
320.         I feel that may be one reason why I feel a connection to pica.
321.         I feel that no one who's in control can understand what it's like                 to be out of control.
322.         I feel like whether it's a spoon of dirt, a vodka tonic, or a burnt                 match tip--it's all the same when it's calling to you.
323.         I feel more in control now than I used to, although any                              twelve-step program will tell you "control" is the wrong word.
324.         I feel really frustrated sometimes trying to explain.
325.         I feel famished.
326.         I feel anxious. I just said famished by mistake.
327.         I feel anxiety is one of the things that makes me eat.
328.         I feel that a Siberian tribe that once took along with them chunks                 of local earth when they went far from home is just the kind of                 stuff that should be in poems.
329.         I feel that most poets who write list-poems must have some kind                 of addiction, even a benign one.
330.         I feel that most poets are probably, at the very least, addicted to                 writing.
331.         I feel like maybe I'm just projecting myself on everyone else.
332.         I feel the dirt, creamy and rich in my mouth.
333.         I feel the silty chalk under my nails.
334.         I feel that hardly anyone knows about Brahma, the originator of                 all beings, who was said by Sri Lankans to have eaten nothing                 but the earth itself.
335.         I feel like you always leave me with the dirty work.
336.         I feel you should scrape the dirty dishes before you put them                 into the dishwasher.
337.         I feel grossed out when I see a tub with a dirty ring around it.
338.         I feel that hardly anyone knows about "Oak people" who eat                 large quantities of acorns mixed with clay from the ground.
339.         I feel shocked when I first learn that even clay-eating can                 become an addiction.
340.         I feel amazed (if my memory is right, and I did have that                             spoonful of dirt as a kid) that I didn't become addicted,
                given my addictive personality.
341.         I feel that certain frostings are gritty like dirt.
342.         I feel that Cream of Wheat probably also has the same                              consistency of dirt.
343.         I feel the stories about the women who eat dirt during their                 pregnancies for extra nutrients the most interesting stories of all.
344.         I feel like a bad cook unless I scrub all the dirt off the                              mushrooms
345.         I feel like a bad cook unless I scrub all the dirt off the string                 beans, too.
346.         I feel that the holy clay tablets eaten by the followers of Black                Christ, or the Crucifix of Our Lord of Esquipulas, are probably                 precursors to the modern day host, although it doesn't mention it                 in the article I'm reading.
347.         I feel like it's less strange to eat clay than it is to eat ?the body of                 Christ.?
348.         I feel like a culture vulture who gets her culture dirt-cheap.
349.         I feel like all the pesticides must make dirt-eating even more                 dangerous these days.
350.         I feel amazed that I haven't read, until now, about the mouth                 locks that were put on slaves in the American colonies as
                therapy to cure dirt-eating.
351.         I feel uncomfortable around issues of slavery.
352.         I feel amazed that cattle seek out the same clay as pregnant                 women in Africa.
353.         I feel that I once read an article in a health magazine once by a                 nutritionist guru who said people should eat more like animals--                 does anyone else remember this?
354.         I feel as though he may have advocated defecating after each                 meal like dogs do.
355.         I feel (again my mind's a little fuzzy) that it had something to do                 with ridding yourself of food toxins quickly.
356.         I feel like a dirty old man.
357.         I feel like a dirty old woman.
358.         I feel confused by the word pica--which is also used to describe                 a printer's unit of type size--but in this instance means "the                 persistent eating of non food items."
359.         I feel that maybe I can relate to pica since I love to chew ice,                 which is considered "non food," according to doctors.
360.         I feel the little teeth marks on my pencil and begin to wonder.
361.         I feel as though I remember an article about a man who ate a                 whole car. Can that be right?
362.         I feel like I'm going to gag when the Chinese doctor gives me an                 asthma-curing tonic made of raisins and mud.
363.         I feel it takes a lot of courage to swallow dirt.
364.         I feel the dirt under my nails when I pull up the weeds.
365.         I feel the toothpick grazing the skin under my nails when I scoop                 out the dirt.
366.         I feel like getting back to the dirt-eaters.
367.         I feel very moved when I read M. Nelson's poem "The Dirt-                 Eater" in which she writes "...black women, who've swallowed                 mountains / keep on keeping on, continue to survive and                 bloom...".
368.         I feel, maybe because I'm a white girl with enough food, that I'm                 a voyeur into the dirt-eating world.
369.         I feel like writing a story in which the girl digging her way to                 China eats each spoonful she digs.
370.         I feel like there's something very profound about swallowing a                 mountain.
371.         I feel like I'm still figuring out my own boundaries regarding                 appropriation.
372.         I feel appropriation is a dirty word.
373.         I feel muddle-headed thinking about appropriation.
374.         I feel like I have only muddled through so far.
375.         I feel like you may want to know more--about the dirt-eaters,                 for example, in Java, Sweden, and Japan.
376.         I feel like I don't know enough myself.
377.         I feel like the cows are lucky. They just get to bend their heads                 to the grass and their food is always there.
378.         I feel as though it's important to mention that eating too much                 dirt can be a form of anorexic suicide as it lines the intestines                 and prevents nutrient absorption.
379.         I feel like reading more about this.
380.         I feel close to issues of eating disorders of any kind.
381.         I feel that may be another reason why I feel close to the
                dirt-eaters.
382.         I feel like I can totally relate to a Georgia woman who is quoted                 in a Memphis newspaper: "I don't have much of a social life. It's                 important I get home to get my fix of dirt."
383.         I feel like that, but not about dirt.
384.         I feel like that about vodka.
385.         I feel like that about cookies, too.
385.         I feel like I can totally relate when she says: "Technically, I'd                 rather eat dirt than food. If I could eat dirt for breakfast, dirt for                 lunch, dirt for dinner with a little iced tea, I'd be fine....?
387.         I feel sad when I read, Some people just go out and dig in their                 yard. But I've seen it sold at convenience stores and even gas                 stations in poor black neighborhoods. Even though it says right                 on the package that it's a novelty item "not for human
                consumption," sometimes you find it right with the vegetables in                 the grocery store.
388.         I feel like singing "Midnight Train to Georgia."
389.         I feel like a Pip more than I feel like Gladys Knight.
390.         I feel like a pimp, pimping dirt-eaters.
391.         I feel like a dirt-eater being pimped.
392.         I feel like you may think I'm trying to make some political point.
393.         I feel like I'm just trying to figure out why pica grips my                               imagination more than other things in this strange world.
394.         I feel the undissolved cocoa at the bottom of my mug is very                 dirt-like.
395.         I feel like playing dirty pool.
396.         I feel like cleaning a dirty pond.
397.         I feel like the word dirt is one of my favorite words now.
398.         I feel like getting all the dirt on those dirty scoundrels.
399.         I feel like digging around in the dirt.
400.         I feel like I'm up to my dirty tricks.

Denise Duhamel

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