Sylvia Plath on the agony of loneliness! "

"God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long. Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship - but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering."

I was just wondering, what do you guys think of this passage? Do you think we're truly alone at the end of the day, or is it just a product of individual thoughts? This is one of my favorite passages from Sylvia Plath's writings, and every time I read it, I find myself pondering the same question: are we really that alone? I'd love to hear your thoughts.