Without Rhyme or Reason

I keep walking from room to room through my three room condo, looking for my inner brick to throw, or my inner Dromio to pose a question to; I do things that are necessary but without any clear rhyme or reason.

 
“There are many shades in the danger of adventures and gales, and it is only now and then that there appears on the face of facts a sinister violence of intention- that indefinable something which forces it upon the mind and the heart of a man, that this complication of accidents or these elemental furies are coming at him with a purpose of malice, with a strength beyond control, with an unbridled cruelty that means to tear out of him his hope and his fear, the pain of his fatigue and his longing for rest: which means to smash, to destroy, to annihilate all he has seen, known, loved, enjoyed, or hated; all that is priceless and necessary- the sunshine, the memories, the future,- which means to sweep the whole precious world utterly away from his sight by the simple and appalling act of taking his life.” ~ Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim (No one writes like this any more and more is the pity for that.)
 
“Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme nor reason?” ~ Dromio, The Comedy Of Errors Act 2, Scene 2

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