Tick tick tick tick dead

Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village.

On the Wednesday night at Glastonbury I was sat in a camping chair on my own eating a cereal bar and a girl walked past and shouted "Hey, I heard you were a wild one, Ohhhhooo". Didn't know what to reply so I just toasted the cereal bar in her direction. Given the circumstances, I think it might have been the funniest jibe I've ever been on the end of. 

Bought a copy of Oblomov by Ivan Goncharov for 99p on ebay because it's been occupying my Goodreads recommendations for about 6 months. This was three weeks ago and the parcel just turned up today, it's been cello-taped back shut and someone's written "Delivered to wrong address" with a marker pen on the back. Someone's definitely opened it to see if it's worth keeping, found that it's a second hand paperback by an obscure Russian author and just thought, nah may as well let him have that. Thankful and insulted to equal degrees, yet powerless to do anything.