Let's just say, for the sake of argument, that it's not about the finish line, since we are all consumed one way or another in the end. Let's add that it's not about difference, exactly, either, since one way or another we do have our differences. So, accounting for individuality and mortality, what's left? Well, maybe what's left is ambition for ambition's sake. This is a very ambitious grape here. The other grapes were content to do their grape thing and leave it at that. This grape, though, this one little grape, spread its wings, puffed itself out like a bird looking for a mate, got all cushiony and fulsome, though never sacrificing ambition to symmetry or completeness. Tufted, almost complacent, yet somehow modest, too, just there with the others. To their credit, the others didn't shun this grape. They all hung together on the ends of their stems. And all, in the final moment, I'm a little ashamed to admit, were delicious. No, that's not true. They were exceedingly tart. We ate them anyway.
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