Format the following passage properly, for storytelling purposes. Keep it as written, don't change a single word, but improve grammar where necessary.

Nine minutes to 8:00am. A certain house-mate follows a primordial grunt with a shriek of delight, but soon settles down. He was in rare form earlier this morning, perhaps having visited Sillyville again, and reunited with all of his Wee Sing friends. I have been here for almost three months now; in fact, tomorrow will mark exactly three to the day since I first moved in. So good had the timing been that only now do I realize the significance of what happened on my first day here, having gotten to attend a play featuring people who have now become close friends. The cast had practiced for months to ready themselves for one single performance. I was entertained that afternoon. Now, looking back on it, the memories are even more powerful, for around that same time next year--barring the unforeseen hand of fate--I will have transitioned from an audience member to a performer on the same stage. Once again I am reminded of the dignity of an actor, the courage it takes to stand in front of many different people and deliver something that has the potential to alter the course of their existence forever. To stand on a stage is to place a spotlight on yourself, to elevate yourself above what you usually do. It is understandable, in a sense, why there are some people who like to sit on the stage during the day, when we are in the auditorium. The only times I go to the auditorium, in normal conditions, are to have a snack and lunch. Sometimes, I will stay longer; this past Thursday, for example, our boxing instructor returned to lead us in a dance session...and I got the opportunity to perform a song by Kool Moe Dee, "How Ya Like Me Now." It was kind of rough, as I hadn't listened to it or practiced the lyrics in a while, but I got though it without having a major catastrophe (though I honestly regret that I humanized the 'invincible' Moe Dee by accidentally changing one lyric: "the rhymes I select are nothing short of perfect" was altered to "very short of perfect"). As I am sure over 90% of the audience had never heard the song, or ever heard of Moe Dee, it was an error no one would have caught. I certainly could not have gotten away with it if I were to do a talent show in New York, though. (A suburban kid from South Florida is well advised, under most circumstances, to stay away from Moe's stomping grounds; on the off-chance of a surprise encounter with the man himself, I intend to shake his hand, thank him for his music, and keep it moving. No reason to 'fanboy out.') Being on that stage, or any stage for that matter, is almost like a metaphor for rising beyond your normal conditions, a metamorphosis in a sense as it can transform the most timid wallflower into the most outlandish social butterfly. I was never meant to be conventional, certainly not inconspicuous. The grunter's sister makes some distressed sounds, an indicator that she needs to use the restroom, or is currently in the process of doing so. Water drips, a toilet flushes, and from the sound of it she has gotten up. Relief sought is relief found. In the distance, she makes some more noises, as my heart melts. She is so innocent, so sweet, just like a child. She is older than I am, but processes the world around her in a different sort of way. Her vulnerability becomes mine, for though I strive to portray a sense of confidence, there are still times where I will caress a pillow, close my eyes, and imagine I am hugging someone dear to my heart. When someone offers an embrace, I gladly come in. To feel these emotions is to experience a sense of spiritual restoration. Reflecting on the friends I've made, I realize there is so much I will never know about them, as there is much they will never know about me. I was not meant to know it all, nor be it all. I just know what I can do. I cannot be everything to anyone, but I am grateful to be something to someone. Hopefully, it is something good. Every person marks a transition to the next scene of my life, and as they fade so too does the scene. None of this was meant to last forever. For example, I am still using Windows XP SP3 (NT 5.1) to this very day. It is remarkable to still be able to use an operating system that was first released to manufacturing in 2001; the first version of Windows NT came out in 1993, and at least some part of XP's code-base still contains code from that release, which is to say that though XP itself is over twenty years old, portions of its code are over thirty. Impressive though it is, I am already making preparations to move to 7 or 10 LTSB/LTSC; the efforts of some talented and generous programmers have bought XP users some time before the inevitable move. For now I can still use XP as a 'daily driver.' I'm brought back yet again to the Desiderata, and start at the beginning: "Go placidly amid the noise and the haste and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons." I remember Wednesday, the lady who had me come up to the front to give me the flyers. I remember her tone of voice, and how unpleasant it was for someone whose name is Joy. Refusing to surrender, and remembering the peace that comes with silence, I chose to stay quiet. There was no reason to put her on the defensive, or possibly make a bad day worse. For all I know she could have been having the worst morning of her life to that point, and her time was already being monopolized by a coworker who kept talking to her, bringing things up, asking questions. She likes getting to know others, which brings me to another section: "Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story." I try to be a good listener, but there are times where the breaking point is reached. It has not happened too many times in my life, but one young man in particular got me there, which brings me to the next section: "Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit." An old friend of mine, with whom I had severed ties, attempted to get back in touch with me last night. It was quite interesting to get a call from an Arizona area code, from a person who was identified as "Jon." I know no one by that name; as it turns out, it was someone else, a person I had known since high school, who apparently got a new phone number and tried to get back in touch with me. As I had kept my original number when I got the phone that I have now, I had left him a window of opportunity in which to make contact. I closed one such window when I blocked his original number; after a brief text conversation I blocked the new number too. That chapter of my life has ended and I would like to keep it that way. The grunter sneezes several times, loudly; from my room, I acknowledge the sneezes with a series of 'bless yous.' He surely did not hear them, and I did not intend for them to be heard but to be a way for my heart to be at peace with the disturbances. Another sneeze comes and is met with an additional blessing. My attention turns to one more section: "Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time." In the moments where I read and do research on things that interest me, I feel restoration. The grunter squeals joyfully; he too has been restored. As he's now immersed, so begins my immersion.