Two short lines, each starting with "where," and neither one finishing a sentence. That gap is part of the point. The speaker seems to be searching for a place, a state, or a moment in which they could author themselves, deciding who they are rather than being handed an identity. The wording leans toward longing more than confidence.
The second line pulls the other way. An "out-take" is the scrap left on the cutting-room floor, the version that didn't make the final film. To "be this out-take" suggests feeling like a discarded or unused piece, something outside the main story. So the speaker wants control over their own story while also sensing they may be a leftover from someone else's.
The title, "Ad hoc," meaning improvised or made for the moment, adds to this. Selfhood here feels makeshift and unfinished. The mood is quiet, wistful, and a little uneasy, with big questions packed into very little space.