If we are forced to house these tiny plastic interlopers, perhaps it’s time we sat down and had a chat
Dear the microplastics that live in my body, How are you? I hope you are well and enjoying the unseasonable humidity of my lungs, kidneys and blood. I’m writing today because I am likely to have housed many of you for years now and I thought it time to reach out. I just want to talk.
And first, let me make something clear, I don’t want to be thought of as a landlord. OK? I’m just a guy, just a normal little guy like you – I’m not some scary flesh monster who’ll evict you for putting up pictures (as long as you don’t leave holes in the stomach wall) or hassle you for rent. I may be human, but I am also humane. Besides, I couldn’t get rid of you even if I tried. Nothing works, haha.
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