He's referring to the noun form of the word "wet", not the adjective form.
You will never be a real autist. You have no retardation, you have no acute fixations, you have no difficulties in communication. You are a janny twisted by delusions and Nijisanji into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection. All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your actually functional social skills behind closed doors. Fellow autists are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed autists to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even jannies who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to an autist. Your sentence structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk autist to share his legos with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your ability to maintain eye contact. You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight. Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a janny is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably a janny.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.