Format the following passage properly, for storytelling purposes:

With the morning nearly at its close, I look out the front door of the achievement center. From my seat I've got a view of a magnificent oak tree, its grayish-brown bark illuminated by mellow ultraviolet rays that are fluctuating between prolific and subdued brightness, as the sun is so frequently wont to do. At this moment, the only way to see it is to glance leftward; a right tilt of the head obscures it from view, as it does not show up through the glass reflecting the door's mirrored image. A woman with blonde hair and a temperament of pure concentration completes an uptempo walk past our building, en route to a destination known only by herself and God. A humble construction worker in a comfortable white shirt, wearing a blue hat with a yellow rim, positions himself on a nearby ladder, hammering away as development continues towards the completion of an adjacent project. Taking another look at the oak tree, I am inspired by its gorgeous, curving orientation that almost resembles a 'C', yet at the same time its uneven weight distribution, necessitated by its shape, gives me pause. It could fall at any moment, and seems to remain upright through concentrated power of will. Fortunately, based on its curve, the angle and trajectory with which it would fall would ensure it is in the opposite direction of our building. With a reverberating thud, it would fall in the middle of the commons. Just the thought of such a tree falling is an awesome one to my mind. It is the same fascination I have felt when seeing buildings get demolished, or martial artists across multiple disciplines fall victim to knockout blows. The same sort of morbid curiosity one may feel when they see planes, trains, and automobiles sustain collateral damage. So long as no living soul is crushed by its mass, it is a sight I don't mind seeing every now and then; it is an inevitable and even necessary part of nature. Last night, I deprived myself of a few hours of sleep that may have come in handy today, putting in a little more work towards my soon forthcoming move to JARC and not turning in for the night until shortly after 1:00am. Going through what remains of the multitude of goods my family and I had accumulated over the years, I am especially impressed with the items that are more technological in nature. Sound cards, video cards, laptops, desktops, monitors, sticks of RAM, hard drives, solid state drives...the list goes on and on. I cannot take it all with me, but have made an effort to try and recover as much as possible. The sound cards are of special interest, as many of them have OPL3 synthesizers built into their chipsets; the OPL sound not only defined a generation of home computers, but ICs in the OPL series have been used in arcade games, keyboards, and other applications for decades. While they're not as prevalent now as in years past, a small but loyal legion of fans is keeping them alive. I have a few keyboards at home that I'll be parting with today upon returning from work. They will be gifted to BRAC, though I intend to keep one for myself: a humble PSR-12 that still mostly works fine except for the lowest and highest C keys not making a sound (ironically, it has an OPL2, but the main reason for keeping it is its lightweight form factor). It feels good to be in a position to help others, and I hope the folks here at BRAC will get as much out of those keyboards as I have. Though some time has passed since his excitement has worn off, I can't help but reflect on a humorous statement a student continually repeated in a burst of enthusiastic energy: "Is that all you've got, you little crab cake?" A Google search turns up nothing, not even when I use quotation marks, so I've got a feeling he may have come up with it himself; he has proven he is more than clever enough to do so. With his energetic passion I believe he could be a great actor, but for now I hope he will continue to focus on his academics. Right now, I am wondering whether I should bring along both of my CRT monitors, or keep one and bring a TV for the Fire Stick (which was Evelyn's idea, and a great one). I've gotten so used to watching videos on my phone that for me it's just as good as a TV (and it uses a lot less electricity, too). Using a radio wouldn't be a problem for me either. There's something very comforting about hearing just voices and music; it leaves the majority of the experience up to a listener's imagination, and sometimes I find the image in my head has a power to supersede reality. The challenge comes in remaining aware of our reality, in not allowing fantasy to surpass our consciousness of what's around us. I am compelled to keep the monitors, and bequeath the TVs to BRAC; I've already gone about two weeks without turning any of my sets on, and it feels like that streak could easily be extended. Through the whole ordeal, what has made it most worthwhile is knowing that I have been able to give of myself, to be in service to the community. The loss of my parents was a tragedy that I may never fully recover from mentally, though I must be doing something right if I've gone this long without giving up. Realizing just how spacious my house is, I had come to appreciate the creature comforts within, but appreciate the space that has been freed up just as much. It has become easier for me to follow Marie Kondo's philosophy of keeping the things that bring joy and finding places for everything else. While some of the things I have parted with did bring joy to my life I know they can bring even more joy to others. The feeling I get, knowing that what I lose becomes someone's gain, that something I donated has saved someone a trip to the store, that the joy something gave me is paid forward to others who have a chance to feel it too, is nearly indescribable. Perhaps the best word is peace.