Perhaps the ultimate cruelty is that we are both aware of our existence and at the same time we are intensely social creatures.
Awareness of our existence means awareness of our death.
As social creatures we have a need to form bonds with others, to communicate with them. Yet how hard it is to transmit our deepest feelings and thoughts. No one is ever able to fully convey their innermost perceptions to another; to know that there is someone else who understands the world exactly as you or I see it.
Writers and artists spend lifetimes in the pursuit of this transmission. One way or another, all of us do. Yet despite these efforts the connection is imperfect. There is static in the wires. I am not you. You are not her.
So we all die alone.
Good comes of this. Awareness of death makes humanity strive, create, progress. But we know we will never fully commune our innermost selves with anyone else. We know as we live that we will die alone.
Why such a heavy price to pay for all that we are?