My Severed Emotional Support Head.

Don't look in the duffel bag. OK, look if you must: it is my Severed Emotional Support Head. I told you not to look.


Your Emotional Support Pig keeps snuffling around the duffel bag of my Severed Emotional Support Head: Please make it stop.


When the plane encounters turbulence I reach into the duffel bag and stroke the lustrous blonde hair of my Severed Emotional Support Head. I can practically hear her say to me: "Everything is going to be just fine." Sometimes the hair is brown. Once, red. Depends on who was around the airport before the flight.


I have removed all of the teeth from my Severed Emotional Support Head: it is more Emotionally Supporting that way. I am not sure why that is; I think I am just afraid of teeth since that event in childhood. I don't want to talk about it. You are NOT my Uncle, no you're not. Don't touch me.


Sometimes I gently cradle my Severed Emotional Support Head in my arms and sing to it softly during the flight.

"Sister Christian Oh, the time has come
And you know that you're the only one
To say, okay
Where you going
What you looking for
You know those boys
Don't want to play no more with you
It's true"

I find this song reassuring. Or I sob lightly. Emotions are tricky.


When I get to the chorus I can't help but cradle my Severed Emotional Support Head tighter.

"You're motoring
What's your price for flight
In finding mister right
You'll be alright tonight"

I feel like I am soaring. Sometimes I look around, expecting other people to be singing with me, but they don't. They don't even make eye contact. People, it's my Emotional Support Song: be respectful.

I am Laslo.

http://althouse.blogspot.com/2014/11/so-lady-getting-on-plane-with-you-seems.html