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⠀⠀Adrian Christopher was a dreamer. He was a male of twenty one, in college, and average. He wasn't brave, neither was he lively or bright. He was the type of person who would always dream while staring out of the window, the one who's notebook was full of doodles, thoughts and poetry rather than points and notes from the lectures, the one who would lay on the sand and stare at the ocean in the day, and watch the stars on the grainy sand in the night, the one with the deepest, bluest eyes that held stories of millions of galaxies, covered by a veil of hesitation and scare.

⠀⠀The fantasizer was a colored soul amongst the monotonous black and white ones, trying to show them what he saw only to be turned away and get bashed.

⠀⠀Person after person called him a child for dreaming of things, for seeing the beauty in everything, called him immature and a failure for being unable to mentally grow up.

⠀⠀“Grow up already. This world is far more problematic than you think, we don't need another mystic.” They would say with either an eye roll or a sneer and would turn their backs to him and walk away.

⠀⠀But he still tried, tried to uncover their veiled eyes, and show them the aesthetic of everything.

⠀⠀This is his story, a tribute to the soul who dared to wander amongst the critical society.

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