A grape is a fruit, botanically a berry, of the deciduous woody vines of the flowering plant genus Vitis- Wikipedia
It was there, it knew it was there. It couldn’t see because it had no eyes, it didn’t know it couldn’t see. If you asked it and if it could talk, which it can’t, it would say ‘well what is seeing anyway?’.
Though to talk properly and fine… like the gentle people of old, one must know language. The Grape only knew it was there, with no touch and no sensation to behold whatsoever and even if the grape wanted to learn language, it couldn’t, unless language was injected into the sentience within that sweet mass that we call flesh.
But language isn’t something you inject. It’s something you hear, and like touch, like speech, like sight, a grape can’t hear as it has no ears. The sentient grape only sat or lay? Whatever grapes do.
It didn’t know what it was missing either, which makes something that seems like torture not such a bad thing.
Unless it was one of those grapes that knew there was more in life and wanted it. But I don’t think a single grape in history has ever thought that. Not that I’d know.
This grape was unlike all grapes only because it knew it was there. It had a sensation of being, even though it was just a lot (or a little) of senseless nothingness.
This grape was like most grapes because it was otherwise unremarkable. It was purple, oval shaped. I mean, it probably tasted funny, with all that sentience.
What this grape thought about was really a mystery, with such a clear, uninterrupted, unadulterated mind…
Could this state of being be unlocking bliss!?
Was this grape experiencing constant extacy? Unlocking the secrets of the universe with its life filled, sentient grape-flesh?
Does the grape with no discernible reason for being, know the reason for being?
Is this grape wise because it knows nothing?
At the precipice of its very nature, has the grape learned of what it is, to be one?
On the other hand, the grape could be stuck.
Stuck in that moment, you know it, we’ve all felt it.
That moment, where for some reason you are disappointed that there is no much more in life.
I mean this grape has no sensory glands, it can’t feel!
It could just be thinking, in its languageless style.
This is it.