You have the potential for great failure. In actively avoiding living the model of a human life, you've become so so likely to fall far beneath it. You hate your dead-end job. You've no lover, nor anyone who could be. You're lazy. You alientate friends with your arrogant readiness to be angered by their mortality, or impatience when they misunderstand. You live only for yourself, and the arbitrary goals and standards you set but lack the motivation to see through to their end. There are no great mysteries here, merely a slowly unfolding canvas revealing a dull and dismal scene.