Format the following passage properly, for storytelling purposes.

It is one minute before 5:30am. After a couple of nights I feel my energy coming back. Fighting off yawns beckoning me to get some more rest, I write this in the dark, much as Just-Ice did the final track of his 1990 album "Masterpiece". A masterpiece though it is, most people consider "Back to the Old-School" to be his true magnum opus, and for very good reason. Just-Ice was the first emcee to draw a generational line in hip-hop, separating the emcees of the past from the rappers of the present day. On his sophomore album "Kool & Deadly" there is a track entitled "Going Way Back", wherein Just reflects on Bronx-based pioneers, and the places where they honed their skills, who played an essential role in the early development of the culture. Getting back to "Masterpiece", he went in certain directions with that album which he may not have otherwise explored, likely due to the involvement of the legendary Grandmaster Flash, who produced every track from beginning to end. "I Write This in The Dark" is a love song, a subject that had already been explored time and again by other emcees, perhaps most successfully LL Cool J (whose "I Need Love" quickly became a top-selling record, and remains a benchmark by which others in that category should be ranked). You can tell it's unfamiliar territory for him, and while he doesn't pull it off nearly as smoothly as LL or some of his other contemporaries, he gives it an honest effort. "Masterpiece" ended up getting lost in the shuffle of many milestone releases that also dropped in 1990; the divergence in sound from his past works, combined with lackluster promotion from his label Fresh Records, may not have done him any favors. And yet, it is an album that I still go back and revisit from time to time. I've always had a soft spot for the obscure 'underdog' albums that managed to fly under the radar, and artists who were willing to take creative risks even if they didn't pay off. Every album, in its own way, is a miracle. Think of how many musicians there are in the world. They are all creating, for one reason or another. Some of them make music because they enjoy it, and would be perfectly content to never release an album, let alone a single. There are others who not only create but are willing to share their creations with the world, whether it pans out or not. Whether they are creating for personal satisfaction and spiritual fulfillment, or with stardust in their eyes, they are all creators in the most fundamental sense. It's not easy to create an album. It's even harder to get it professionally produced and released on a subsidiary of a major label, let alone ending up on the label itself. Between 1986 and 1998, Just-Ice released seven albums on 'independent' (read: subsidiary) or major labels. That's seven more than many artists can claim, and a testament not only to luck but hard work. Listening to each album, you can hear how his style changes with each release. Like any other artist, Just tries to move his style forward with the times, but is also unafraid to experiment (as he proved masterfully on "Masterpiece"). His lyrics also evolve as the man himself evolves, and twelve years later he remains as ahead of his time as he was was on his first release. He plays with cadences, demonstrates an impressive vocabulary, and exudes confidence that truly makes him seem like he is the wrong one to mess with. As someone working on his first book, I think to myself: "How much creativity can one man explore, to be able to release seven creative works in twelve years?" It's inspiring. Only a small handful of people get the opportunity to release one album, let alone seven. And just as Just has evolved, I am excited to see firsthand my forthcoming evolution. Earlier this morning, I was asked by the 'night shift' CNA currently on staff to go into the living room for a few minutes; apparently, she was going to do some cleaning. Fortunately, I did not lose any of this draft, but I did lose some brain cells when I saw what she had playing on the TV in the living room. It was great to discover that the Roku 'smart' TV is capable of YouTube access, but it feels wasted on the cheap Nigerian movie that was on display for the other house-mates gathered on the trio of available sofas (plus one chair which I occasionally inhabit but is more commonly used by one particular house-mate). From what I could see it appeared to be your run-of-the-mill romance story. It was rather humorous to see the opening credits appearing one-by-one at the bottom of the screen, during the early scenes of the film; there were more Ugochukwus than I have counted among the Nigerians I've scam-baited over the years. It looked to be good enough for a film evidently produced with a shoestring budget, but lacked wit and passion. Even I couldn't help but say out loud, "this movie is terrible." (Not with her in earshot, of course.) Thankfully, another house-mate took the initiative to bring us back to normal Xfinity service; though no one will laud anything shown on UPTV as a classic on par with Citizen Kane or Casablanca, it was undeniably satisfactory to see a film that had some more soul and warmth to it. By the same token, no one will laud a Boca Black Box performance of "The Lion King Jr./Kids" as being comparable to a 2007 Broward Center performance of the real deal, no less the 1994 classic that continues to inspire generations of viewers thirty years after its release. All the same, that is what I ended up seeing yesterday, as did my house-mates and the residents of the group homes adjacent to mine. I knew going into it that it wouldn't live up to my old memories, but could appreciate it on its own merits. Seeing these young children--many of whom had never done a stage show before--having fun and coming together, I couldn't help but smile, tears running down my eyes like a proud father. Indeed, I am old enough to literally be a father to some, if not all, of these kids. The warm-up act pounded out many fascinating tribal rhythms on African percussion instruments and I couldn't help but head-bang as though I were at a Metallica concert. (Okay, maybe not that intense, but pretty close.) I have noticed that when my heart is moved by a rhythm, it syncs itself to the beat and I start moving in time. I am at the point where I don't question it anymore. I embrace it, and do it, for I know this is just who I am. I didn't question it yesterday, or the day before, when I ordered nachos on two restaurant trips. I don't question it today, as I will soon be heading to work, with a chance to help out some good, hard-working folks.