I see you in every nameless face that passes by the street, the deep crease of your lids and the deep pools of dark brown that are your eyes. These strangers might think I’m weird or crazy because I stare at them even if they have only a slight of semblance to you. Even if they just possess only a slight that intense demeanor and raging bullet walk that you have. I miss you so much I compensate through nameless faces and stares.

I miss your loud booming voice (esp. when you are argumentative or angry) and lengthy messages, the smoothness of your language and the poetic way you weave words together. And with our different taste in music, I listen to the few songs that we like together and my heart all of a sudden feels like a deflated balloon. I am left to staring outside the window of the bus or the penthouse of our building remembering those moments that I shared the same scenery with you.

I miss eating bread and butter for breakfast, and 15 minute lunches with a longing kiss right before I enter my building or enter a cab. I miss your booming laughter caused by my quirks and jokes that you find amusingly weird. I miss you putting a direction to my life, guiding the reckless raging fire that I am.

The only tangible memory I have of you is a book that you gave me which I never read, I wonder why you gave me a book that I would most likely not have chosen on a library or a bookstore. Maybe it contains hidden messages to our love, or maybe I’m a fool to think these things. But I miss you a lot… False hopes are the only solace of the lone… 



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


It has been a long time since I have written but I trusted that the knack for it would come eventually. I have traveled quite a lot the past two months, a lot in my standards as I am a corporate rat and a miser working towards a dream. It has put my soul to rest, hence the silence of my thoughts and the purification of my soul’s unknown turbulence.

I would like to tell you of a ride in a boat with four friends. I was expecting cajoling and loud conversation as we embarked on that short trip towards the opposite island…

The conversation hushed gradually as we went further and deeper down the edges of the Pacific Ocean with only the sound of the friction of the boat against the water, its motor and the wind. And then, as the water turned from a light shade of blue green to a deep blue, hard to distinguish from black… Everyone was left to their contemplative moods and dreams…

It was beautiful seeing the peace in my friends’ faces as we fathomed the depth of the ocean and how our lives were at actual risk being there… That anytime a big wave could approach and set our boat and its passengers to the bottom of the ocean, lifeless and peacefully floating, and that the most painful kind of death is from drowning…

All the while I thought of life, love, dreams, sea, travel and the beauty that remains undiscovered in the country… I want badly to bring the person I would truly love to this island paradise and experience the silence of the boat ride with him. I stared at the lone lighthouse on an outlying island and had fantasies of going atop it when I visit the place again. At the fast paced lifestyles everyone else is busied with, it is imperative to put the camera down and relish the experience, it is much different captured artificially than when you are there at the moment.

The longest thought that occupied my mind was the realization that the greatest artists, poets and thinkers of then and now must have been inspired by the sea and by lost paradises; and I think that maybe one would not fathom the depth in black and white unless they see the sun reflected at the deepest pockets of the ocean…