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


I prefer to remain silent about us, to not divulge the love ensuing between us two people very much alike and at the same time very much distant. Our love is the low flame on a stove, safe yet warming…

But at the same time, on good days with you, it is an influx of unidentified feelings that cannot be encapsulated in words conjured up by man to make another understand, all I know is that it is a conflagration… On good days.

On bad days, on normal days, I am adamant to feel the other side, the darker side because I have grown in the fear of hurting and losing myself again, I am inept of emotion, or maybe I prefer to be that way — unfeeling and oblivious.

As much as I want to talk about you, brag about you and tell them of the moments we share that make good stories, I prefer to hush and keep it to my memory… It is a beautiful secret…. And we are sheathed by their unknowing because what is habit and what is ordinary is often time missed – they will never notice because we are just together, a placement in the eternal parabola of time, a streak to the blind side. Seeming ordinary like a common thing that goes unnoticed in our everyday, like a toothbrush, a towel or a wrist watch that when lost would be a disturbance to the natural flow of things – that is our love.

P.S. Today, like the long days that have passed without you, I realize that the pain is losing you is remarkably different from the ones that I have felt in the past. Pain was one full blast of emotions that erupt from a break-up and recedes away as time passes. But the pain of being away from you is one that goes on a steady crescendo with time’s passing. I wonder if it would stop at a certain point. 




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…





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 Villar
Friday, June 21, 2013


This is probably the last time that I would write about you and the false hopes that I still bear, I’m not certain if it is the last time and if I would hold on to the past still but I have always been a romantic, a fool, and a dreamer. See, I was watching “Silver Linings Playbook” for the second time this month, it has been raining quite hard in the city that I felt the need to stay at home and draw the blue curtains of my room down, and channel whatever life changing occurrence it was that led me to right here and right now. That scene in the movie (starts at 1:49:49) really struck a chord in me, not only because an antiquated Johnny Mathis song, “Misty”, was playing but because I related the scene so much to what happened in my life. To be more specific, to how we really ended it all. And just as a scene from a movie or real life, an imagined character and setting, a good song and beauty and the imitation of life to art or vice versa inspires me to write, right now I want to write about how we ended because no one really knew, none of my friends heard about the real story, it’s just the same tasteless answers I give them to invoke no further questioning or I divert to another topic that would take the better of their interest.

That scene in Silver Linings would take a spot in my most favorite movie scenes, probably outmaneuvering that one in 27 Dresses when Katherine Heigl dances with her beau under the stars on that yacht while “Like a Star” (Performed by: Corinn Bailey Rae) was playing on the background or that scene in Notting Hill inside the movie theatre right after Hugh Grant finds that Julia Roberts is with another man in the hotel and that old lonely song plays as he watches a movie starring her muse. The understated allusions to love they are and how no matter the differences it has with your own story, you still find parallelisms.

How it happened was a celebration of victory, Tiffany and Pat celebrating a 5.0 they won at a sport-dancing competition they joined and a parlay between Pat’s father and a friend. Everyone was ecstatic, Tiff jumps up to Pat, probably about to give him a kiss and you can feel Tiff’s longing, how she wanted to lock life to that scene just holding Pat and everyone close to them, family and friends around them in a circle all smiles and happy, victorious. And then Pat finds his wife (who cheated on him with a co-worker and gave him the necessary trauma to render time in a mental institution and a restraining order), and everything around him probably dissipated into a blur and he walked up to her and Tiff just looks on with so much sadness in her eyes. Tiff then runs away in her black trench coat and puts on a shoe on the streets, she runs away, just runs away.

I’ll stop the scene on that scene in the streets with Tiffany running away because I believe only in realized dreams but not in romantic happy endings anymore, similar to how the movie ended. Maybe, since this is the last time, it’s about time that I stop explaining myself and time that you understand why Woody Allen compartmentalizes my views on love in the movies he has written and why that scene in Silver Linings is something I can relate to so much. It’s up to you what silver lining we could glean from how we ended.


Look at me
I’m as helpless as a kitten up a tree
And I feel like I’m clinging to a cloud
I can’t understand
I get misty, just holding your handWalk my way
And a thousand violins begin to play
Or it might be the sound of your hello
That music I hear
I get misty the moment you’re nearYou can say that you’re leading me on
But it’s just what I want you to do
Don’t you notice how hoplessly I’m lost
That’s why I’m following you

On my own
Would I wander through this wonderland alone
Never knowing my right foot from my left
My hat from my glove
I’m too misty and too much in love
(repeat after music interlude)

Look at me

I now know what WRITER’S BLOCK means



I have become more of a reader…

I’m more of the slow reader,

I want to feel the gravity of the words,

the emotion it invokes,

observe the creativity of its syntax,

and realize the impact it has on the world…

But my pace has taken a presto over an adagio,

Even the heavier books on philosophy and the sciences,

I have read with much gusto and a on a faster pace…


what I have read would give me inspiration to write,

more themes to build on,


a steady foundation…

But now I just read and absorbed,

thought about the things I read about a bit but not really do anything about it…


I feel like my creative juices are trapped in a dull and dark room, with a locked door and a hooded guard has went to render his duty, passing off the skeleton key to the next one in charge of making sure I keep quiet, that I attempt no escape. The guards are just outside and I’m left to my wandering thoughts and it is as though I am not trapped in this dull and dark room with a flickering light bulb and mosquitos, it is as if I’m running about in a wide and green field bathed gold by the morning sun but I cannot do anything about it but only “think” it.

I never believed in “writer’s block” as many would whine about it, loathe it and complain about it. I’ve always heard of it and held on to my belief that man is bestowed with unlimited opportunities for creativity and the freedom and license to use it in whatever way he pleases.

But there is a “trauma” that a poet, a writer, a painter, a troubadour, an actor and anyone involved in the arts and the sciences that would cause in him to fall into that dent, a pit or the black hole he would fall into and feel through the darkness.

It would feel like all hope and beauty is lost and there is nothing more to write about, sing about and paint.

Until that miracle comes again and brings the creative mind out of the dent, the invisible hand, a big eagle taking you out with its big claws,  the knight in shining armor throwing you a rope to climb out of and giving you the kiss that seals it all, or maybe an unidentified flying object who would use its gamma rays to teleport you to its nest. Until then would you be able to write again of sunsets, a new day and the deep violet night sky.


I found a good definition of WRITER’S BLOCK while surfing the Web for pictures to place on this article and tips as to how to overcome the limbo it is:


Vanilla Ice Cream

I write this as I drop by the Family Mart tucked between the humongous concrete slabs of buildings in 6750 and order a hot cup of coffee and vanilla ice cream…

Vanilla ice cream reminds me a lot of you,

not because you like it,

or not because you’re sweet…

It’s because our relationship is like vanilla ice cream,

it melted…

and became just vanilla mess.


I write this on a tissue paper I used to wipe the vanilla mess on the table and on my lips, it’s raining outside and my head is buzzing from too many vodka shots, am I even making sense now? Maybe not because I can’t make sense of the whole thing we have had. Because of you my writing is a mess, my academic life is defined (now) by my writing and you F it up.

Nice job.

Even my writing is a sticky white vanilla mess.

The Bob


By: Maan “Maggie” Villar

Why did I chop off 80% of my hair?

I went in a posh salon in the Makati area on December 30 and got rid of my long locks as a statement, as a signal of a new start – an outward expression of my inner going-ons. The stylist asked me several times, “are you sure about this?”, and even told me that having a haircut would not absolve me of those things I want to forget but it is far from that, the reason why I got it cut. I didn’t get a hair cut to move on for a break-up or to become more masculine or worse become a tomboy, not that I have anything against it. I just happen to be a proud AND HAPPY heterosexual with shorter hair. I just wanted to be me, again…

There are studies that suggest that it is less attractive for men when they see women in shorter hairstyles, or that women lose their overall sex appeal when they let go of their long hair. I would beg to disagree, I feel the exact opposite. But, in all honesty, just like anyone undergoing a drastic transformation, I had my down moments too, I even got to a point where I had to wear extensions for a month all because I had a hard time matching my clothes to my shorter hairstyle. I got rid of the extensions, not only because it is summer season, but because I was a pheonix rising up from the ashes, a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.

They say that women with shorter hair are usually career women, moms and celebrities – the alpha female, the independent woman and the woman who has got her game going – Athena (my favorite Greek goddess). Women donnning this style are perceived to be smarter, more independent and goal oriented, and they are also more creative and artistic as proven by studies. They are more confident and have leadership acumen. They are in control but at the same time reveal their vulnerable side as they are also exposing their necks (In the olden days, revealing your neck is exposing an attack point to your opponent, making you more vulnerable). It is a sure sign of strength and takes a lot of gut and commitment, a very important decision point as it is definitely hard to let go of tresses that took you years to grow and maintain. Short hair on younger women would make them look older or more mature and I am aiming exactly for that effect, I want to be perceived not as the little girl anymore but a woman making her mark in this world, someone endowed with wisdom and ready to march to her own tune. And maybe because I do not have the time and the capacity to commit myself or settle down anytime soon as my life goals come foremost, this is also a form of “man repellent”, I’m aiming for a sexy androgynous look, not to be misconstrued as a hairstyle that would complement doing drugs with Andy Warhol or sexual orientation issues (I am heterosexual still and we need to rid of that mischance we put to women cutting their hair that they are about to become tomboys or what not) but something that screams “INDEPENDENT WOMAN”, “POWER WOMAN”, “SUCCESSFUL WOMAN” AND “I DON’T NEED A MAN!”.

I love my short do and what it stands for, and how it reflects my personality.

Here are a couple of pictures of beautiful, successful women that I look up to and who coincidentally carry a good crown of short hair atop their shoulders.

Exhibit 1: Lesley Lawson aka “Twiggy” [English model, actress and singer, was dubbed as “The Face of 1966”


Exhibit 2: Alicia Keys [Singer, songwriter, music producer, actress, a very talented pianist and violinist, Grammy award winner]


Exhibit 3: Victoria Caroline Beckham [Married to football hottie David Beckham hence Posh and Becks, English fashion designer, businesswoman, model, singer, was part of the pop group Spice Girls]

Victoria Beckham Short Blonde Bob Haircuts 5

Exhibit 4: Emma Watson [Became popular when she starred as Hermione in J.K. Rowling’s screen adaptation of Harry Potter series, became even more popular when she was the heroine of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, English actress and model]


Exhibit 5: Natalie Portman [Actress and model, one of the smartest actresses of all time, FYI she graduated as a Psychology major from Harvard while working as an actress and has one of the highest IQs – impressive!]




01. Graduate from my masters, both Master of Science in Business Administration and Master of Science in Public Management.

02. Make a landmark study / thesis / dissertation and be a known and widely cited voice in my chosen field.

03. Enter a reputable law school.

04. Graduate from Juris Doctor degree with honors.

05. Be super woman and finish law school while working for a good company with a good salary.

06. Be on top of my class and extra-curriculars like debate or orchestra.

07. Take advance music classes in piano and violin.

08. Finish reading my books on art history, art theory, portrait drawing and painting.

09. Finish reading my books in music theory and music history.

10. Play the pieces I love, master at least 100 piano / violin pieces in my lifetime.


11. Make at least 100 paintings.

12. Paint in Paris.

13. Make at least 100 drawings.

14. Become a published writer in a periodical.

15. Buy my mom her dream house.

16. Become the owner of an 18th century Stradivarius violin.

17. Have a Steinway baby grand in my living room.

18. Have a Mark Chagall painting in the master’s bedroom of my house.

19. Be a part of humanitarian organizations and philanthropic activities.

20. Practice law privately.


21. Be employed in an intranational organization like United Nations or Asian Development Bank.

22. Teach music to young kids.

23. Find love again.

24. Fall head over heels in love with someone who deserves it.

25. Get a to-die-for wedding proposal and a Harry Winston diamond ring.

26. Get married in a country where divorce is legal or in the Philippines if divorce is already legalized.

27. Have two kids – a boy and a girl if the heavens would permit.

28. Listen to jazz on the radio and drink wine after every stressful day with the one I love and maybe some poetry before we sleep. ♥

29. Learn how to cook meals like Giada de Laurentis or Barefoot Contessa.

30. Learn how to speak in French and Latin.


31. Get on a Meditarranean cruise.

32. Do yoga and jog before the sun rises every morning.

33. Have a healthy lifestyle and encourage my family to have the same.

34. Age gracefully – remain sexy and beautiful even up to old age.

35. Make my blog a hit.

36. Eat the cake made of gold in South Africa.

37. Learn how to cake and create masterpieces out of flour and sugar.

38. Build a cozy, country style home with a lot of books and musical instruments.

39. Visit 100 museums around the world.

40. Have a Labrador and a black Yorkshire Terrier for a pet.

Beautiful Dreamer

41. Be a voice in fighting for human rights, animal rights, environmental preservation and other things that I believe in.

42. Learn how to meditate.

43. Interview 10 of my life icons and feature them in my blog.

44. See the majestic Irish mountains.

45. Drink like a sorority girl in an English water hole.

46. Shop for Prada in Milan.

47. Get in touch to my spiritual side in an Indian ashram.

48. Witness the whirling dervishes of Turkey.

49. Visit the dwellings of Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Wagner and the other great composers I idolize.

50. Be under the tutelage of a great artist and learn great techniques I could use to develop my own.


51. Showcase my own works in a gallery.

52. Be a New Yorker for a good portion of my lifetime.

53. Be opera and theater savvy.

54. Watch the performances of Bolshoi and Kirov ballet.

55. Win a big case in court.

56. Win a lot of good cases and close a lot of good deals in my legal career.

57. Sleep to the serenade of a gondolier in the canals of Venice.

58. Enjoy a parachute ride and drink champagne while at it.

59. Skydive.

60. See the pyramids, mummies and hieroglyphs of Egypt.


61. Get to know my own country by travelling to all major destinations in it and knowing my culture by heart.

62. Own a yacht.

63. Eat cake made out of gold.

64. Truffle hunting in northern Italy.

65. Wear a wedding dress designed by a sought after designer like Carolina Herrera, Monique Lhullier, or Vera Wang.

66. Own a vast collection of jewelry and share them with my mom.

67. Have a closet full of perfume bottles and share it with mom.

68. Have a closet full of designer bags and shoes and share it with mom.

69. Hop on a US tour with my dad.

70. Make sure that my mom and dad ages gracefully and live their days happily with their grandchildren.


71. Watch the ball drop in Times Square on New Year’s eve.

72. Write a book about my life and my thoughts.

73. Write a landmark piece about the Philippine Legal System and Corporate Social Responsibility.

74. Learn how to play the harp.

75. Play violin or piano for a big orchestra like the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra or London Philharmonic.

76. Give solo instrumental performances.

77. Be a known voice in propagating and preserving classical music, Filipino cultural music, art and dances.

78. Become a member and leader of the Philippine cultural society and committee.

79. Have a law passed.

80. Send my kids to Ivy League schools and have them graduate with honors and great lives.


81. Celebrate my golden wedding with a cake made of edible 24-k gold.

82. Sing beautifully on stage with a standing ovation.

83. Give a speech that would make it to history books and books of the best speeches.

84. Age with ethereal beauty and health.

85. Have a trophy room in my house for my family’s trophies and awards.

86. Kiss under the cherry blossoms in Japan.

87. Drink soju and eat somgyupsal like a local in one of South Korea’s provinces.

88. Ride one of NASA’s shuttles that is used to tour people to have a glimpse of outer space.

89. Climb a big mountain.

90. Live in an ashram for a couple of months and learn how to meditate and get in touch with my spirituality.


91. Have a star named after me.

92. Help improve the lives of at least 100 people, send children to school, help stand up and fight for human rights and poverty.

93. Let all my secrets be known and be absolved of all evil and sin.

94. Change my religion when I find something that I truly believe in and matches my lifestyle and conviction.

95. Become a travelling professor in business, law and the humanities.

96. Buy a house in Corinthian Hills for my mom.

97. Become the owner of MARECO Broadcasting, Villar Music and 105.1 Crossover.

98. Teach music and the arts to students in the school that I am going to build, be a great mentor to an artist or musician who would become great someday.

99. Build my music and arts school.

100. Be known and remembered as one of the most sophisticated, powerful and beautiful women that sashayed the streets of Baguio / Manila / New York / Paris.

Bucket List by Atty. Maan “Maggie” Villar y Parreno, MBA, MSBA, MSPM


New Obsession: Avan Jogia


Avan Jogia – the name alone is sexy. I don’t know how I chanced upon him in the vast world of the Internet but yes fellas, I am sessing (short for obsessing) over him BIG TIME! I mean it is better than finding the Tsarnaev brothers who are behind the Boston Bombings cute right? I would get a lot of hate mail from saying this alone of course since those two brothers caused a lot of chaos and life was at stake with what they did. I was stricken when I saw one of the very talented dancers of Dancing with the Stars lose her leg at the bombing. The horrors of it! Her legs are her bread and butter, for heaven’s sake, SHE’S A DANCER!


Back to Avan…

He’s a Canadian actor although I have never really watched his movies and he’s two years my junior. Middle name is “Tudor”, makes me wonder if he has royal descent. (Hmmm…)

Gosh… I would love to wake up every morning with that face. It’s not something I would easily get tired of. He looks like some semi-terrorist, artsy, rocker type guy… Which I like. A LOT. I would want him to sit for me someday, or just stare at his pictures when I’m bored at work. He makes me want to rush home and get my charcoal pencils and sketch pad so I can memorize his features through a drawing. Man, I’m sessing big time (and drooling…)

I should stop here before I get into the lewd stuff in my imagination. LOL.


Rainy Days



I was three when they said that the rain brings luck and from then on, as everyone else complained, hated, and felt sad when there is rain, there I was on my window with the gray skies up above, warm and smiling. I love when it rains.

I feel like butter melting on freshly toasted bread. I like the feeling of hugging myself, feeling the wooly texture of my thick red sweater, smelling the notes of my perfume and the room filling with the aroma of hot cocoa or freshly brewed coffee beans. And then I get to that somnumbelent mood, listen to slow jazz songs, Miles Davis on the trumpets, John Coltraine on the saxophones and read a book by Milan Kundera, Fyodor Dostoevsky or Leo Tolstoy. The jazz droning on, and when my eyes get tired from all the reading, I look at our old pictures and think of the best rainy days I have had in this life – those when I had you near me and we filled the streets or the room with our laughter and conversation. Then I come to think of it, that without you, it is an unbearable drought, and the rains mean that the heavens are crying. Days and days without you, it felt like an undending drought.

And then it pours again.

A soft drizzle. A comforting chill.


This time bringing life again. A new and deep breath of life.

The soil is once again made rich and flowers wet and fresh in the morning to come. The smell of the earth when it rains, it smells fertile, alive and luscious. It breathes in new life and enriches the land with life to thrive as it enters the veins of plants and reaches its tips to grow into beautiful flowers and sweet fruits.

The rain brings life, breathing a wind, washing away the dust and ashes, ending the drought.