Silence in Vienna

Sometimes we accept false stories about ourselves. We feel weak, yet we present ourselves as strong—as if trying to win a game. A game that never began, has no end, no players, no winners. Only losers.

We crave understanding. We want to tell our own truth, to dispel misunderstandings. But then we realize we are embedded in stories larger than our own. And we scream one last time—and there is still no response—can we really accept being left alone, unheard? We get angry, we grow desperate, and we scream even louder.

But what if the world isn’t ready to hear anything other than what it’s used to? What if they fear our truth as much as we fear telling it?

Because we all know that if we speak up, their truth would change. Nothing would be the same as before.

Walking through the bold, cream-colored streets of Vienna, with its museums full of art, full of stories, full of truth, I keep my silence.

Even as I feel the unspoken words digging into me, muted by the world.

I was raised in a culture where you must speak out against any narrative imposed on you, where you have to tell your own story. But how often have I seen the elderly swallow their words, swallow their tears?

The buildings of Vienna are immense, strong, yet not intimidating. I don’t look into people’s eyes; instead, I watch the sky, observe the architecture, and stare at the paintings, trying to reclaim the power I lost with my silence. Vienna bears the weight of centuries of power, leaving you alone with your own reality.

But what if silence itself is a voice? Keeping silent doesn’t undermine my truth. It doesn’t lock it away. It protects it, it highlights it. Truth is to be told softly; the listener has to come close, just as you need to move closer to a painting to fully see the artist's expression, to notice the details.

I cannot scream across a distance. I can only whisper my truth. And if there’s no way to do this, I keep silent. Silent to protect my truth, to protect every detail that gives my story its authenticity.

Whoever truly wants to know the truth will seek it out, as I have sought it on my own.

So I leave my silence in Vienna and take my truth with me.