By Maan “Maggie” Villar, The World According to Maggie V

Modern day relationships, where there are relationships that require no label and no commitment, we settle for less and compromise the ideas of how a conventional and romantic relationship should be – we pretend that we are okay with whatever it is that is going on. But secretly we want a label, an assurance, a contract, a right to call someone our own along with the responsibilities and consequences that come along with it. Because loving someone is a right and with it being a right, it can be abused and contravened – there are laws that govern it, albeit arbitrary. This is the cause of confusion and pressure, the reason why one of the parties back out prematurely despite the so-called ‘relationship potential’.

But whatever…

As long as you don’t have to hug your pillow when you feel alone and those love songs have a new meaning again, then maybe it is okay, you can tag along and play the game…

While it lasts, let it be good.

While it’s good, let it last.

And while it’s there, feign.

The only solace is that you don’t need to cry as much as you did before, because you surpassed that and you are a survivor – a Napoleon, a Genghis Khan, an Andres Bonifacio in this WAR called LOVE. And labels, in this modern day format of dating, romance and whatever you may call it, are just good for canned tuna.



I read your blog and I am overwhelmed with emotions for the first time this year, you said you missed the vision of me in your couch when I have only you white shirt on. I miss being that vision too, I felt my most beautiful, being in just your loose white shirts, smelling of laundry detergent and mothballs. I made a choice that day, I chose him over you and ended up with no one. And years after our brief dalliances, you still inspire most of what I write. Just like you, I put up this blog because I know it is one of the ways to reach you. Reason and reality over wishful thinking, it is only a sliver of hope that we still share tomorrow together. But before I sleep at night, before I am rocked away by the delirium of sleepiness, I feel our connection. I feel that I know the goings-on in your mind, what you are feeling and thinking at that exact moment. Sometimes, I wonder how many women have shared your bed and if you too think of me while you find a temporary cure for your lone. For now, the past would be the glue that binds our like minds and hearts, a reason to believe that in the vast spectrum of eternity a vagabond and a minstrel were once destined. I miss your laughter and wise eyes…

But, if you say you miss me like you say you do, you should be willing to put it through the true test:

When you walk on a beach or when you witness a magnificent natural phenomena like the sunrise or the warm tones on the sky when the sun is about to set, close your eyes and feel your heart… If you feel that you want me to be beside you holding your hand as you walk through the shores or sit on the sand, if you want to whisper dreams and sweet nothings under the sheath of stars in the night sky, if you think of me when the sun rises in the morning… that means you truly miss me… You miss me if you think of me at the most beautiful moments and at the saddest ones.



By Maan “Maggie” Villar, The World According to Maggie V


General boredom – that is what I feel, as if I lost the gusto I have had of life and of my inclinations. I have lost not only the time but also the taste for vibrations on my violins and brushstrokes coloring an empty canvas. I only write my thoughts and it is how creative I could get at the point where I am now – if I don’t I would falter from my sanity, my thoughts would either be grotesque scratches of ideas forming nothing but a confabulation of bullshit. Writing is what keeps me afloat this torrid sea of lonesome and nightly dalliances with strangers and assholes. I wish I could uncover my talent again, write song and put images on canvas – but I am artless and I see the world with a gray monochrome and bland taste – I am generally bored, much uninspired.

To keep me company on days like these are several things: a pen – to write, friends – to laugh and share stories with, alcohol – to momentarily forget, books – to relish knowledge unknown, and distant thoughts and dreams – to hope. There are brushes with men and nights when such company is needed, fleeting moments of orgasms and embraces which tomorrow I would forget – a cure for a need, a compromise for resources now scarce. I am an actress feigning love and a possible relationship when definitely I would leave wee hours in the morning, not making a sound, right before breakfast because I hate awkward breakfasts with strangers. Casanovic delights – of the men under my belt, of the things I have written about them and of the seasoned scripts and romantic tongue at which I use to twirl them around my finger and my crazy.

But last night…

Over a few bottles of beer and salted fried pasta, my friend told me that I only sulk deeper in my sadness and loneliness because I look so much for inspiration, look so much for love – I pick mangoes unripe. Unripe mangoes are sour, he says. I should wait until it ripens and it is yellow and sweet for consumption. He uses this simile for my wanting love.

But I want to paint again, to make music again, to love again and live again – I insist. What they say is that I am a woman living beyond my age, older than I am but unwise in my decisions. That it is to come soon, I am a young lost thing in this world and that he too is looking for me. So I wait then. I wait and I wait… Tears in my eyes, the wait should be worth it. And hopefully by then I won’t have to hug myself at night and force myself to sleep.

I wonder how much longer I have to bare the lonely cab rides with the city scape bringing unwanted nostalgia, how much longer would that mango be ripe, I wonder…



Corinne Bailey Rae is definitely one of my favorite artists, I mean, in my ideal version of the world I would marry her off to John Legend. This performance is smooth and perfect – you have to listen to how clear all the instrumentals are and how Corinne Bailey Rae actually felt her song and emanated the emotion of it as she felt the air with her arms and hands. It was beautiful. If you download the digital version it is just as clear, if they could make a live performance sound this good then the world would be a better place. Great song, great performance, great back-up instrumentals and great voice!

You’ve Got Me Wrapped Around Your Little Finger

I replayed this scene several times when I watched the movie “An Education“. It was old love in a song, Beth Rowley was memorable and her sexy movements just blended with the dalliances of the song. The song reminded me of Marilyn Monroe, Chagall paintings, Chanel No. 5, jazz clubs, hair spray, mascara, roses, and tap dancing. What a beautiful era it was, I felt like I live in that era and not in my time.

Rated and Reviewed: Chromeo

By: Maan “Maggie” Villar, The World According to Maggie V


It was a lazy day, I just had Dr. L review my progress with my paper and I felt I could do a couple of days without working on it after finding out that I still have a good timetable to work on. I was just at home with Great Taste coffee in a ceramic mug, the cold weather and finding ways to kill time. So I ogle and snoop around Mike Concepcion’s page for a while, he is another of those underrated yet admirable icons in the entertainment industry just like the songs he listens to. I found out he listens to Chromeo and I find myself lost in their electrofunk and old school vibe as I click on the links and follow through the bread crumbs. It makes wonder, however, if Mike Concepcion actually likes the electrofunk duo because he has a striking resemblance to the lead vocalist/guitarist David Maklovitch.


To feed off my curiosity, I read the comments on each of their videos. What I gleaned is that there is much comparison to their predecessor Daft Punk and that is understandable since they play on the same genre. There are a lot of differences in their style and the structure of their music if you take a look closer. Chromeo’s lyric is more of a free flow, urbane, and fresh poetry, as if they are taking the words you would naturally say out of your mouth. Their music takes influences from jazz and hip hop as the group evolved discovering these two prior to creating a distinct flavor all their own.


If you watch their videos, you would find out that David Macklovitch is a very good dancer especially in the dance scenes of “Night by Night” and that all their videos not only have hot models but good stories. They are also shot well. P-Thugg uses the talk box which is that thing he talks through on the videos which you might think is a large tube for ephysema or that thing dentists use to filter out saliva, it makes their music more organic compared to other electrofunk artists.


Highly underrated and undiscovered by many music fans they are not overly commercialized which is why they are to-look-out-for… I am addicted. My personal favorite is “Look over your shoulder”.

Oh the grass is greener everywhere you look
So many girls out there I could write a book

That one’s ass is leaner
This one’s like Serena

But I think your silhouette is meaner

And even though you’ve got small breasts
But to me they look the best
I confess
I wanna go home and get you undressed

See your problems of self-esteem
Could be self-fulfilling prophecies

So probably your best policy is to talk to me

Stop looking over your shoulder
Cause if it was up to me I would make you feel right

Oh the grass is greener everywhere you look
So many people stare they got you scared of the girls out there

This one’s cola-bottle size
And that one’s more of a model size
I know you heard this a hundred times
To me what matters is what’s inside
And a little backside too
Is that bad, is that taboo?
Can I get a bird’s eye view?

You see, your problems of self-esteem
Could be self-fulfilling prophecies
So arguably your best policy should be talking to me
Talking to me

So next time that you’re feeling down
Turn your frown into a crown
Put yourself in an evening gown
And I’ll roll around
Rip it off
Break you off

JetBlue Airways taking off
Couple of days where the sand is soft
Oh, aren’t you glad you took the weekend off?

Cause it’s those little imperfections that make beauty in my eyes
I wanna be in the intersection of your thighs
And you worry about your size
It’s nonsense
It’s not a contest

And besides
If it was a contest, you’d win it
I wanna take a bath with you in it
Bathroom sex, you with it
I did it, I’m lying
I’ll do it with you if you wanna try
I’ve seen you cracking a smile
Guess I have to stay for a while

Over your shoulder
Love is what you’re searching for
Over your shoulder
You don’t have to look anymore