Some words sound horrible, don’t they? ‘Outlier’ is one of them – and, in that way, it is onomatopoeic – if only in the emotional sense – because the ugliness, as perceived aurally, melds perfectly with its meaning of something or someone who (or which!) lies outside the tribe.
As a word I am not 100% sure how to pronounce, it also has that edge of jarring difficulty and ostracism from the homogeneous crowd of little boxes made of ticky-tacky which so permeates our social world.
I, as a gallimaufry kind of a gal, am a classic case of the outlier given human form. Tribes shun me, or I them! My coastline lies far off the continental beaten track. My associates tend to be other outliers!
I have always been seen as different – and that, for the most part, has meant ‘wrong’. Accused by several of being Autistic, I have ploughed my own furrow almost as long as I can remember.
In a world in which being IN is so crucial, I have always been OUT! I have never run with the In-Crowd, never been smoothly popular, never been a candidate for Prom Queen (or its equivalent).
I have always been a craggy and rough itch on the backside of humanity! An irritant! But a pearl-maker too!
Yup! Outlier – and proud!
Follow the flock?! Bugger that! I’d rather eat it!