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A person who does stupid thing and uses the excuse the he has "gangbesvær". He must invade his "homies" house every Saturday because he is a lonely boi :(
"dude your acting like a real Matthias Christian Hansen right now"
A person who does stupid things and uses the excuse that he has "gangbesvær". He has be at his "homies" house every Saturday because he is a lonely boi. :(
"wow dude your acting like a real Matthias Christian Hansen right now"
Matthias is Heisenberg, not the breaking bad one but the quantum genius, mind = blown!
Example of how it's used in a sentence:
Person 1: Who's playing Heisenberg in Oppenheimer?
Person 2: It's Matthias Schweighöfer as Werner Heisenberg, quantum leaps in acting bro!
He is one of the best SoccerPlayers in the World.
Nigga.Are u Matthias Lukas Ginter?
Cause you are the best.
A batty boy who likes to say n-word, single like a pringle, nerd like to correct everyone, sometimes plays minecraft and roblox.
He acting like a Matthias Webb.
A poopoo head with a barely functioning sense of humor that offends more people than it makes laugh. He also has too many Bionicles and a questionable search history.
Steve: “Y’know who Matthias Francisco is?”
Sally: “yeah, the guy who tried turning himself into a Bionicle?”
“We’ll run away together, just you and me.” The cliches of red plastic cups, graffitied walls, and endless city lights are constants in his existence. Impulsive, daring escapades—born from the recklessness of youth—define his days. Judging stares and disapproving whispers from adults mean nothing to him; he thrives in the bitter frost of early mornings, feeling utterly free as though destiny bends at his will. His smile is a locked door, silently declaring, You don’t know me. You never will.
An unsolvable mystery, he draws others in with layers of complexity bound by time and wear, each detail enticing the curious to dig deeper. A guitar prodigy with the spirit of a rockstar, his fiery energy flirts with destruction. His aesthetic mirrors his essence: veiny clothing, buffalo Londons, and silver necklaces. He lives in the analog haze of walkman cassette players, and old vinyls, exuding a raw, unfiltered charisma. He is a fleeting yet unforgettable moment—a living enigma, impossible to pin down yet mesmerizing to behold.
“i wanna be matthias fleur so bad.” we get it.