rambling thoughts .2

everything i think is a ramble

i remember another thought

and i think i’m so smart so i have to include it

even if it doesn’t flow or connect

i guess i’m finding my voice

‘wow that’s really smart write that’

that’s what i just thought writing this

so new and cool and everyone will want to read it

then you can make content good enough so you can post the link to it on your instagram

instagram is so cool its so original

oh brother 

now this is a ramble

i can’t fucking post this

i feel like i’ve been thrown for a loop

going on social media throws me in a daze of self doubt and near hatred

what do i do with my life and when will it be worthy of a post on my instagram?

i’m trying to be original and these rambles are my notes to a future self

or as evidence of my growth when i someday become a big famous writer

pretty proud, pretty sad

i wrote a poem when i was 12 and i was pretty proud of myself

i’m still proud of those words

so edgy and relevant

about race and war culture and the effects of how teens lose themselves in peer pressure

i read it in front of the whole grade

that’s a pretty big deal ya know

i think it was called pretty robots or something

i liked the one on race and war better but my teacher liked that one

i can’t find the poems tho

lost on a computer we chucked about 5 years ago

i guess that means i can just brag about how edgy i am and not have to prove it

or show anyone something that is probably shit

i still write poems and i still don’t show anyone

i just tell people they’re really good and deep and meaningful

but really they’re just sad and i cry whenever i read them

why am i so sad?

anyway, I’m a pretty good poet

i’ll have to show you sometime

stuck in a rut

how do i create

where can i create

who will come with me

create with me

journey with me

it feels discouraging to create alone

wheres my family in arts

i feel like I’m waiting for the next stage

but every period is a stage that I’m waiting to pass

when will i create

when will i live




a ramble of my thoughts .1

my experience being who i am

growing up in canada and australia

parents from finland and singapore/india

belongs to no where (not everywhere)

“ethnic” looking enough to be interesting but white enough to be pretty

high cheekbones but tan

doesn’t belong to those darker cus I’m too light

but not accepted as white

i grew up white didn’t i?

can i white pass?

is being half white make me white?

can i associate myself with those struggles of people darker when i feel them or is that not for me?

who decides that

why can’t i be the one to decide

where I’m from

what i am

whats important to my identity

“wow where are you from”

are you asking because of my accent

or my colour and look

why do you even want to know

what makes you really care

do they think about that

or is it so easy being apart of one set group that you don’t have to think about it

when your culture accepts you then you don’t have to think about it

some envy he ambiguity of my look and identity

the idiots

how ignorant and dumb

you may be bored but by god you had a choice of aninimoty

what i wouldnt give

on top of all those confusion I’m a woman too

don’t look at me and don’t sexualise me and don’t touch me and don’t think about me

i don’t need you to find me beautiful

i scared of you finding me beautiful


even if I’m ugly in your eyes I’m scared

I’m not white

or I’m not what you are

I’m not enough or strongly inside of any ideals to belong

where am i and when do i land

ill never be finn

I’m trying to learn but its hard and I’m scared and i don’t have to right accent and I’m embarrassed

ill never be sikh or singaporean

I’ve never tried

i felt the push and anger or something negative from that side a long time ago

people saying I’m trying so hard to be something

i was just dancing? i was just wearing a dress?

i didn’t know that my fathers culture wasn’t permitted for me

where do i sign up for a permit?

forget it i won’t even bother

the culture is intimately around me

yet its not for me

the language, the food, the music, the dance, the people and the land

but its not for me

what is for me

and when can i have it

and what if i don’t want it

and please stop asking me where I’m from

when do i start creating something new?

if i can’t use what i have can i make it all up

when will the internal matter more than whats from the external

when do i take ownership

no body knows

ill keep asking