Inktober 2026 - 4 - Cactus

I wish I were a cactus.

Not having to worry about the elements, because you happen to be able to withstand extreme heat and drought. Being ridiculously low maintenance, even when it’s not strictly necessary, preserving resources like it’s no big deal, with little to no concern for scarcity. All of that sounds nice.

Being able to thrive in almost complete isolation also sounds pretty neat. Taking root in the middle of a vast desert, or among basically impracticable rock formations, seems like a good way to avoid unwanted visitors, and that’s an option you have. And if by chance anyone does reach you, you’re equipped with a built-in armour that leaves anyone who happens to touch you with such an annoying wound that it effectively dissuades them from ever trying again. Not that anyone should even want to test their flesh against your spines in the first place, right? You naturally look so uninviting that going out of one’s way to walk around you seems to be a matter of self-preservation. You don’t even have to move or spend any energy for people to get away, you don’t have to negotiate, justify yourself, or anything like that: your mere exterior appearance does the trick.

And, amazingly enough, it does it in such a way that you don’t end up looking so threatening that anyone would want to exterminate you altogether (which would be bad). You’re essentially guaranteed continued peace and quiet just by the way you present yourself. And you’re also not exactly ugly, either (which is always nice). You do get flowers every now and then, sometimes even fruit. You are alive and well, you just do so on your own terms. Sweet balance, in my opinion.

You do get friends, sure, but they’re quite obligated to be cool laid-back friends, like carrion birds and camelids. Nonchalantly ominous creatures, almost as unbothered as you are by the rest of the world hurrying around them. Your own overall style is already a strange mixture of whimsical and utterly terrifying – you’re a cold threat, like a dark stare with a smile on a handsome face, something not unpleasant yet still chilling to the bone – so, of course, anyone willing to associate with you should match that vibe. They have to be as tough as you are, as resilient, as dignified and detached. There is no room for fakes, where you are and the way you live. They have to put in the work to get close to you, which means not only are they probably worth knowing, but more importantly, they’re not the kind of people that will just drop you at the first sign of inconvenience. They’ll stick with you, because they’ve already established that you were worth some effort to be around. In a certain way, by displaying the worst of yourself first, you have left no room to disappoint anyone, efficiently filtering out undeserving companions.

Yeah, cactuses seem to have it figured out.