Does this man have a life? Who knows! Between majoring in Biology and English, studying piano, writing god-awful poetry, and being the resident force of chaos on Hinderlie’s second floor, Daniel Benson sure knows how to straddle the line between personal vocation and existential crisis on a daily basis.
Where are you going, Pequeño? Banging your head Against the wall like that I know, you see Las luces rojas, but Mijo, Can't you see the Tree with its sweet, Dewy cherry blossoms? Oh, mijo I ache for you I wish I could wrap you In blankets--my warm fingers-- Carry you away from your Burden to see White-rose buds Oh, how I wish, Believe you’d be happier I am scared to hurt you Crush you, mijo If I dared even to touch your Cuerpo, poquito Ruffle tu vida, poquita And oil up those humming wings Your need for flight I can only stand here At my distance, and hope You realize Hummingbirds can't break glass window panes