I’ve always been an outsider.

As a child, I hated it. Being an outsider was definitely bad.

As an adult, I haven’t particularly liked it.

As a writer, it’s supposed to be an advantage. Perhaps it is. Perhaps I see things from outside that I wouldn’t see from inside. Or I see them differently. I’m not sure.

I still don’t really like being an outsider. It can be cold and lonely out there.

What do you think?