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The Battle-Scarred Avocado

My avocado reminds me of a grape. However, not some brand new ripe grape. A grape that has been sitting for a few days and has started to shrivel up. But not quite a raisin yet, though. I’d like to think my avocado has been through it all: war, famine, apocalypse; the whole nine yards. Each little wrinkle represents a battle my avocado fought in. Whether it was WWII, or the COVID-19 Pandemic, my avocado is a fighter. Imagine how wise my avocado is. The near-infinite wisdom it possesses would be unparalleled.  Maybe if my avocado governed the world, bad things would just cease to exist.  Sadly, a sadistic individual would probably just make my avocado into guacamole before it gets the chance.