Garbage Smith' biggest life trouble stems from having an equal measure of good and bad in her, everywhere, all the time. The good dictates that she do what's right by her parents, by family, by life. Yet within her body, is also housed the 'bad' which says it's okay for her to steal. Okay for her, to steal kisses from the lips of another woman's husband. That it's okay for her to lie. Okay for her, to lie to herself. Lie and tell herself that she's in full control of her life. Add her objectivity, constantly fighting to get up from under the opinions of all these other voices. Struggling, always struggling, with the voices telling her, no. Voices telling her, no. No. She should not do this. Telling her no. She cannot go beyond this. Voices that say no. It's not acceptable. No. It's not done. No. It's not thought. It cannot be. How dare she even say it? And she watches, stands helplessly really, as little by little, her slate, that clean slate she was born with, is deeply embedded within its entire framework, by others' opinions. She watches her slate fill with other people's fears, other people's limitations, other people's perceptions, other people's imagination, or lack of it. Silent. Always, always silent. This is Garbage Smith's story.