Balloony Geese. Or aren't they?

Listening to Foster the People "Helena Beat"makes me wonder about all the simple things that surround me. Just a few minutes ago I was sitting in the car, my brother embracing the steering weel, moving the car forwards. The sun was setting, and I saw a group of geese rise to the sky like a set of balloons. In their beautiful 'V' shape. One at the front, switching places every once in a while. They are such amazing animals, however due to their annoying personalities their beauty isn't seen as often as it should. They fly, swift through the air... floating on the horizon. After a while we drove past that same group of geese setting themselves down on a new spot. A place where they could hide themselves from the rest of the world. Be their own selves. Another fascinating site to see: two people biking through a Dutch landscape. Looking at each other, heavily involved in their conversation. You can call it what you want, decide which color you are, but I want to be red. Not just the simple red, the cheap red people with no sense of style use as their curtains. I am bordeaux red. A color, full and intense in its own mysterious way. Comforting and deep. A color I can confide in, let my emotions float in. But sometimes the color branches out, into different varieties of that color. Just like a tree can branch out into different, yet still the same, but smaller versions of itself. Each branch branching out into other 'littluns'. Each depending on the other larger branch. In the end, it will always be the bigger branch they owe their existence to. Just like how the littluns in 'The Lord of the Flies' by William Goulding are dependent on the older children, like Ralph and Jack. The big ones eventually decide which course the littluns will head in. The more agressive one, where they hunt for animals and eachother. Or the course of the decent people, the course where they try to survive by acting logically. Branches also have the ability of making their own decisions. Sometimes one decides to branch out, into smaller and more gentle branches. Sometimes a branch grows out a new, maybe even bigger and tougher branch. Sometimes they just stop branching out. They stop. Like some characters in the novel just stopped living. Gave up on life or gave up fighting. I'm not giving up yet. I still want to branch out.