[hat]: noun
"A shaped covering for the head, usually with a crown and brim, especially for wear outdoors."
"A shaped covering for the head worn for warmth, as a fashion item, or as part of a uniform."
"A covering for the head that is not part of a piece of clothing."

Definitions from dictionary.com , oxforddictionaries.com and dictionary.cambridge.org respectively.

I think we can see a similarity arising from different dictionaries, that is, all dictionaries are mentioning a "covering for the head".
Now a rather simple yet fascinating question comes to mind: "What if I don't have a head?"

Take myself for example, I am quite fond of hats. In fact, I'm a self proclaimed worshipper of the hat.
However, am I- a headless individual- even allowed to wear such a fashionable item?
Clearly, all dictionaries state that a hat is meant to go on the head. Of course, you could simply say that you can do whatever you want with a hat, but, my dear readers, is that really all there is to this (now becoming quite odd) phenomenon?

I do not think so. In fact, I do quite like to believe there is a whole lot more to this than meets the eye...
Could I, a simple-minded denizen of the Earth, be pushing the outer limits of human understanding for simply wanting to wear an everyday item?
Yes, my highly esteemed readers, I do think this is indeed the case. For reality seems to fade and shiver at the sight of my headless body utilizing a hat. The line between the two realms of Life and Death suddenly seems to disappear and the two start to overlap. The "thought-experiment" of Schrödinger is no longer a thought-experiment at all, it's as much of a fact as the daily rise and fall of the Sun.

Duality between Life and Death is.

In my dreams I have seen dreadful visions of the Madgod himself warning me that I must not fiddle with the delicate shackles that bind reality, as we know it, to the rest of the unknown omniverse.
I tried to speak up, but soon realised that I could not utter a word (for I have no head, and thus, no mouth to speak with). In his terrifying rage, the Madgod whipped off my hat and sent me back to the realm of the living.
Now, the attentive reader must've noticed by now that for some, to me unknown, reason, the Madgod did not simply take my life. It should be less hassle than sprinkling salt onto a freshly baked loaf of bread for such a powerful being.
Was I, the Headless Hatter Horace, invincible due to the fact that I was living between the domains of the living and the dead? Was I out of reach for even the highest of the divine beings?

I fear I cannot answer this question just yet, for wearing a hat feels like carrying a million bricks, a thousand logs and three baby elephants. It feels as though existence itself is trying to eviscerate my very being. The act of wearing, wears me out. Like time does to normal human beings.

I will have to replenish my strength before I, Headless Hatter Horace, will be able to try and unravel the mysteries wrapped in darkness and filth, and go back once more, to the abbyss where time is of no meaning and being is just a word, a sound, a light breeze...