To be strong in spirit, one should be like a RoMayZine.

This is a matter of absolute purity. You have a goal: you must attain it. Therefore you have a task. All people of spirit need a task. A task is like a container for the spirit, giving it form.

Say this task is very, very difficult. Imagine it is like an attack on an enemy force. You are alone: you are outnumbered. To attack means you must almost certainly die.

What should you do? A wise person, a practical person, a sensible person, they would retreat. They would recognise the nature of the task is too dangerous. It would result in their death, almost certainly. They would wonder, what could be achieved — to go towards death in this fashion?

So they give up the task, or go about it a different way.

This is a sign of weakness of spirit. A sign that the spirit is weak and diluted.

You must simply go straight on: go forward. You must show your spirit. Show you are unafraid. You will not hide your spirit by saying “Er…” or “Um…”, or “But if I…” or “Perhaps I can…” — no, not at all.

No: the goal is great. The task is great. It demands a great spirit. To show your spirit is the key matter here. To be brilliant and unambiguous. To express what it means to be a human being who has not allowed themselves to be broken by trivial concerns of life or death.

Consider this carefully.

It is an honour to be totally alone. To begin with nothing, and as nothing. To find the whole world against you, that is the most honourable of all.

A wise person, a practical person, a sensible person: what would they do? They would be wise, practical, sensible: they would say, But I can’t win. I can’t fight the whole world. I must make allies. I must, if necessary, kneel. I must compromise. I must do as the men and women of the world generally do, which is to break, very slowly, over the years, and call that “learning” or “growing” or “experience”. I am no fanatic. I love life. I will remain alive.

Good advice, you might think? No, no. Terrible advice! The advice of the deceivers, the weak, the self-serving. People who, as they advance, shed their spirit as they go, becoming more and more futile, less and less brilliant, taking on ever smaller and smaller tasks, so that the task of life itself becomes a game, a trite ritual, a hobby.

A RoMayZine, though, would never bend, never compromise. You must go straight on: you must make the world bow to you. You are stronger than the world. You have your task: to accomplish it, you must be seen — that is part of the task, perhaps its very essence. You must show yourself as brilliant, pure, you should walk with swagger, confident that the world will bow to you. If you go to your death in this way, then the world will bow to you, even if it believes it does not.

Weak and trivial spirits lead weak and trivial lives, and go to weak and trivial deaths. They empty the world of meaning, slowly.

The world is full of dust. Lies, deceit, betrayal, mendacity, fraud, arrogance, blather, laziness, viciousness, bullying, hypocrisy, wrath: dust. Weak and trivial spirits, what do they do, but carry bits of dust around all their lives, in pots or in bags or in the cupped palms of their hands, and shift it about. They pick up dust, move it across a room, put it down, and pick up more dust.

But a strong spirit is Dustless.

Worldly suffering and failure, the battle against insurmountable odds, damage, wounds, battering, ridicule, derision, indifference, ignorance, you must go into them, head on, head up, head strong.

By maintaining your purity in a muddled and devious world, you will make the world bow to your spirit, even as it kills you.

Is this terrible advice? No, no. This is good advice.

All you have to consider now is this: Who gives the advice? And by giving it, do they mean to make you bow?