The worst thing about small talk is that it's not really talking at all.
I think my least favorite thing to hear in casual conversation is "how are you?" because my only response will always be "I'm fine, thanks." Fine and dandy. It's not like you really care, I'm just giving you the answer you expect because honesty would ruin you. You can't handle the truth. You probably have no interest in the fact that the growing realization that I'm broke and my life is going nowhere and I'm too anxious to ever possibly make something of myself is causing my suicidal thoughts to go through the roof. You'd rather talk about the weather, or maybe a movie you recently saw. That's fine, I guess.
What's worse is that over time, I've closed off to more and more people, and allowed myself to dole out the "I'm fine" response much more generously, and it's caused me to go numb.
Try me, I feel nothing. In a sense, it's made me stronger and I am in no way vulnerable. But where it matters most, I am being destroyed: my creativity. I have found myself constantly stuck, trying desperately to make music, but I can't make music if I don't feel it filling up my body with joy. That's what it does for me, and if I can't have that I have no idea what else to turn to. I'm living as a body without a soul; a ship without a captain. But it's fine, right?
Yeah, I'm fine. That's all you need to know.