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

"When you have learned to summon all your inner power, find me. Then we will truly learn who is more powerful." These were Akuma's last words to Ryu, before disappearing into the night--along with his island--during Ryu's ending in the classic "Street Fighter Alpha 2." These words proved another test for the legendary warrior, who was left not to reflect on his victory but the sense of his untapped powers, his unrealized potential. His journey to become a true master remained a neverending story. Recently, I have found myself reflecting on my own sense of mastery, on my desire to regain a sense of freedom...and in those moments, began to contemplate the idea of freedom being an illusion, as I wondered whether I already have everything I need. Taking stock of what is here, I know there is so much to be grateful for. I still have three meals a day, a roof that doesn't leak, and others I can share my life with. I have met many great people, and feel a desire to be there for them. I believe in my heart that I am useful to at least one person, that I am worth something to someone, somewhere. Still, there are times where I feel as though I threw away nearly every chance I had in my youth to make something of myself, that I'm paying the price now for not striking while the iron was still hot. I wouldn't be the first person who wandered throughout their twenties without discovering their ultimate purpose. Some people do not come into their own until they are over forty. I am thirty-one now; there is time for me to create a life that can be not only personally satisfying, but enriching and fulfilling for the world at large. As someone who doesn't like to make therapists out of those to whom he speaks, it can be difficult for me to share what is on my mind. There are many who have moved me with their thoughtful words, and in other cases even enacted total paradigm shifts with regards to my perspectives on life. There is a sense of underlying depression that follows me in my daily life, a feeling of being stuck at one speed while wanting to shift into a different gear, to learn how to summon all my inner power. I feel as though I have lost a certain level of freedom. Perhaps I bought into the belief that we have to be doing something, to have something going on in our life, to be of genuine use to society. I wonder if freedom itself is an illusion, if I already have all that I need. The former may always be up for debate, but the latter, in all truthfulness, could be answered with a humble 'yes.' Being surrounded by 'clients' who are more vulnerable and in many cases much older than I am, I feel a sense of duty to stay here. It is not about me. It never was. Our house, let alone the rock it rests on, does not revolve around me. It pains me to see the struggles they face. I believe, with all my heart, that most of the people here do care about us and are genuinely doing their best. I have started to get used to the routines, and seen firsthand how they forge character and courage. Even with this structure, there are still times where I yearn to travel to the realms of uncertainty, to have a chance to forge my own path. To a degree, I have the freedom to choose what I'd like to do, but feel as though the options are fewer than they had been in the past. It may be another illusion; in the finite, there exists a sense of infinity. While most of the people here have been nice to me, others have been deeply unpleasant. Though I am autistic and struggle with certain things, compared to others in the same situation I am relatively independent. There are times where the atmosphere can be depressing; though there are plenty of things to do, I do not get the impression that anyone here is genuinely happy, and were it not for my hobbies, I would have probably fallen into a deeper sense of sadness. I think about someday getting out of here, and reclaiming my freedom, only to be led back to a realization that the only way to be truly free is to look within yourself. I am reminded of Tim Walker, who I spoke to in the past, and his belief that he was put here to be in service to people. He fulfilled that purpose as an animator, working in the industry for a remarkable fifty years, and continued to fulfill it after his retirement with the art he has made in his spare time. Perhaps I am here for the same reason. My life is not just mine. It is his life, it is her life, and it may even be your life. If this turns out to be the last piece I ever write, I can die peacefully, knowing that even at this young age I fulfilled the purpose of my living. I was my mother's ' miracle baby,' her last hope after two miscarriages and a forced abortion. She had always wanted to be a Mom. Though it happened three weeks earlier than intended, I came out and her dream came true. Maybe I can help others fulfill their dreams. Perhaps there is no better dream to dream. If I am not destined for the final destination I have been working towards, the journey to get there is one I will always take with me, and cherish. Each day is a memory I can carry in my heart; though some of those days turned out to be better than others, they formed another piece of a puzzle that has been in development for more than three decades. A puzzle wrapped in an enigma, tied with a bow of mystery. A house-mate communicates a sound of distress. My heart cries, knowing that after almost three months, there are still many things I do not understand about them. Maybe I was not destined to understand such things. Yesterday, at the day program, I participated in another drama session. It was deeply satisfying to be there, to be among people who also have a passion for expressing themselves, who experience our world in rich and meaningful ways. Being able to communicate emotions and feelings is a special skill and in my lifetime, I've had the pleasure of speaking to many people who are professional performers. They all seem to possess the same power that I do, and yet the deepest echelon of artistic intent has not yet awakened within me. When it happens, then and only then will I know my true maximum, not just as an artist but as a human being. All these past events in my life will seem like mere child's play. I feel the power come out within me when I tap into the spirit of Willy Loman, the aging, failed businessman from Arthur Miller's seminal "Death of a Salesman." I am embarrassed to say I know very little about the play, or about Miller. I know enough to recognize the poignancy with which Miller looks at the unrealistic expectations of the American Dream, the idealistic goals that come with it. Through a series of flashbacks and hallucinations, Loman reflects on his failures in life. When I first performed the monologue for the drama teacher, who has been involved with the performing arts for more than forty years, he said it was one of the most magical moments he had ever experienced in his two years with ETC (the Exceptional Theater Company). He had no suggestions for the way in which I performed it, but does want to work with me on blocking. I was so nervous that I forgot there was a whole stage to use, and stayed in one spot. I must done have something right, to channel that nervous energy into what felt like a burst of pure passion. It was an adrenaline rush, the kind that most can only get from skydiving or scuba diving. I would like to do more of it. It is a feeling I can't deny.