Pages Withoot Words: The Richt tae a Skreich an tae Silence

Aye, ahint the grand façade o' ony strong wumman there's aye a room naebody kens aboot. A place whaur unspoken pain gathers, whaur grudges hide, an' whaur a wumman tires o' bein' a stane wa' for a'body aroond her.

In the VIA AD ME culture there is a law: there is nae auditorium here. There are nae judgments, nae likes, an' nae curious een o' ithers.

Whiles ye juist need tae fa' silent. Tae bide whaur there are nae letters, but only you an' a pause. An' whiles — tae leave a voice-note thocht: tae speak yer mind alane wi' yersel, tae greet in the dark, tae pour oot the rage that's built up, an' tae ken that this cry o' the soul will bide forever sealed in secret. The cleanse happens no in public. It happens ahint the scenes, in blessed silence.