Medicine

It takes one to know one.
And she definitely knew one.

This is a second blog.  The first was filled with the thoughts and struggles of a growing girl with a heap of problems that should have belonged to someone beyond her years.  But actually, she's now quite thankful that her bad fortune happened at such a young and tender age.  For it taught her a few of the lessons of life.  It's hard.  And it's not a case of someone's got it harder.  Though it may be true.  This young girl always believed that pain, and therefore pleasure, cannot be universally measured.  A bee sting to one might equate to a grazed knee of another, a painful operation equal the paper cut of another, and so on.  Whether physical, mental or spiritual, or what ever, the only way we can measure it, is through experiencing it ourselves.  And does any one on this earth experience all the pains, and pleasures, that life has to offer?  Most probably not.

It takes one to know one.

She now saw her life as this:  a dose of medicine.  While her struggles and pains are cosying themselves up in the warm blanket of the past, the icy cold future seemed that little more bright.  She could see her warmth breath in front of her and was ready to face a red nose.  Though a little numbed by the cold, she felt she could do it.  Be someone.  She'd had her share of medicine.  Now it was someone else's turn to take it.  And take it he did.

It takes one to know one.  What a load of bollocks.