Hm. The only things I'm good at are video games and web development, and I, too, am unsure about my skills in the former. As for the latter... Well, what? I'm good at writing a bunch of meaningless, jargonistic code that nobody gives a fuck about? Hell, there are CMSes that do what I do. A fucking robot could replace me. Plus, I would need to get a few degrees for my skills to even be marketable... Pfft, yeah, right.

I'm already 17 and I'm unmotivated, undriven, apathetic, and unskilled as fuck. I've never been taught any "life skills". I don't know how colleges work, I don't even know what classes I need to take to get what degree, and what jobs that degree would be useful for. I don't know how to drive, or what the rules of the road are. I don't know anything about cars. I don't know how to do laundry, or cook any kind of food, or wash dishes, or even how to order food at a fucking restaurant -- the latter, thanks to me being socially crippled and fucked in the head.

I don't have a girlfriend, nor am I capable of getting one. The one person I actually am in love with calls me her "friend", though I've done nothing meaningful to earn that title. Hell, I barely know anything about her -- not like she's aware of the fact -- and what little I do know, I don't even trust my own memory. (Are her eyes really green/hazel/whatever-the-fuck-it's-called, or is that confabulation?) But is that any surprise? I'm weak in every regard -- my arms are just thin little sticks hanging from my torso -- and I'm not exactly a winner in the looks category, either. Obviously, I don't have good genetics or I wouldn't be fucked in the head -- which just happens to be the reason I can't do anything right socially -- so I have none of the three factors -- genetic, physical, psychological/behavioral -- that seem to influence love or attraction. So of course she doesn't return my emotions, and even if I could fall in love with someone that could actually reciprocate my affections, they wouldn't. Who would?

And yeah, did I mention I'm fucked in the head? I barely recognize body language and I can barely show it. When I'm sad, miserable, empty, hopeless, despairing -- nothing shows on the worthless fucking stone mask I call "my face". No one can ever see or notice a thing. Only people with any fucking clue are all you random folks on th' internets. My emotional processing is fucked up. I'm always getting overwhelmed by my emotions, whatever they happen to be -- almost always negative -- and I can barely recognize some of them. Hell -- I wasn't even aware I was in love with someone until years after I'd first met them (though looking back, I know for a fact it was a "shortly-after-first-sight" thing), and after I suspected that I might've been, it took a month for me to verify it.

Even if I somehow manage to succeed in this world, it'll be for nothing. Ooh, I'll be a web developer. What a fucking joke. What a worthless, insignificant, meaningless, abstract little career. I won't ever be doing anything meaningful, or worthwhile, or noble. You got firefighters, cops, doctors, surgeons saving lives, you got psychotherapists and counselors giving people hope, you got teachers giving people possibilities -- and there I'll be, just typing away on a little fucking keyboard my whole life, doing something that doesn't matter to anyone. I am and will be a parasite, leeching off of society while contributing nothing of value. A worthless, meaningless parasite.

I feel like I've already reached the end of my life. I feel like an old fucking man. I've done all I'll ever get to do. I've exerted all of my worth, all of my life, all of it. If lives are roads, I've reached the dead-end of mine. I'll live for a few more decades as a corpse with a heartbeat and then I'll finally keel over. They'll put me in a wooden fucking box and dump me into the dirt while all these people I call my "friends" gather 'round and watch, maybe say a few kind words. Hell, if I'm lucky, maybe a few of 'em will even shed a tear or two. Most of them'll be over it in a week. A small handful -- three people, tops -- will be broken up about it for a coupla months. They'll all get over it, all of 'em, gonna get over it and forget I ever even existed, because I'll've done nothing noble or meaningful for them to remember. I'll've lived a meaningless life and died a meaningless death -- probably cold, scared, and alone in both.

Hope. Fuck hope. I don't have any fucking hope, nor do I have any reason to have any of that shit.