It's a matter of perspectives

It's called restlessness.

Like a thousand hands ruffling through your hair, your mood shifts with each and every trigger. Your senses prick at every movement, and your mind wanders through the catacombs of possibilities. You are mildly aware of the after-taste, but it is not enough to deter you from the lure of darkness.

You hid in the deepest of all underground tunnels, basking in the familiarity of the abyss. For a long long time you hid, and avoided contact with any creature who went by you. You used to listen to these foreign animals.. thinking how wonderful it would be if you found someone your kind to relate with. At times when you were at it, you would never notice the tears running down your face, nor the know of the laughter you were missing out.

......... TBC