a. Used to indicate the object, aim, or purpose of an action or activity: trained for the ministry; put the house up for sale; plans to run for senator. Official website for Google search engine. Search for web content, images, videos, news, and maps. Log in for access to Gmail and Google Drive. Find Android apps using Google Play. for meaning: 1. intended to be given to: 2. having the purpose of: 3. because of or as a result of something: . Learn more. An expression (including assignment expressions) or variable declaration evaluated once before the loop begins. Typically used to initialize a counter variable. This expression may optionally declare new variables with var or let keywords. Variables declared with var are not local to the loop, i.e. they are in the same scope the for loop is in ... Create forms in minutes... Send forms to anyone... See results in real time Find 42 ways to say FOR, along with antonyms, related words, and example sentences at Thesaurus.com, the world's most trusted free thesaurus. for-: [prefix] so as to involve prohibition, exclusion, omission, failure, neglect, or refusal. Search the world's information, including webpages, images, videos and more. Google has many special features to help you find exactly what you're looking for. Synonyms for FOR: pro. Cite this Entry “For.” Merriam-Webster.com Thesaurus, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/thesaurus/for.Accessed 27 Nov. 2021. For definition, with the object or purpose of: to run for exercise. See more.
2021.11.30 09:32 666ATAN Glow Proxy for GyroBox?
I have heard of folks purchasing multiple GyroBoxes in hope of scoring a Glow Proxy. Are there any boxes still in stock anywhere?
If so, is anyone crazy enough to trade an unopened Gyrobox for my Glow Proxy? Floating it!
submitted by 666ATAN to discexchange [link] [comments]
2021.11.30 09:32 NTVproductions Noticia de último momento.
|submitted by NTVproductions to LMDShow [link] [comments]|
2021.11.30 09:32 naisahere Wait 30 mins or an hour to eat after PPI?
I’ve seen some conflicted recommendations on how long to wait to eat after taking Pantoprazole. Some docs say to wait 30 mins while others advise an hour—anyone have any insight on who to listen to?
submitted by naisahere to GERD [link] [comments]
2021.11.30 09:32 Dillon_qt how do you upgrade the cyber monday cues
2021.11.30 09:32 MarlboroManager Anthony Albanese tells Peter Dutton to "Sit down boofhead"!
|submitted by MarlboroManager to LaborPartyofAustralia [link] [comments]|
2021.11.30 09:32 Shut_up_inator Advice on paladin
I'm a new player and am currently a lvl 2 paladin/sorcerer but am thinking ahead for lvl 3 and don't know what oath to choose.Just looking for advice, don't know if it matters but i'm a warforged
submitted by Shut_up_inator to DnD [link] [comments]
2021.11.30 09:32 No_Delay5284 Gas Prices Pressure Drivers’ Finances
|submitted by No_Delay5284 to energy [link] [comments]|
2021.11.30 09:32 Moonlight-Haunter The Life Lock
The streets are full of people. Voices, traffic, screams, murmurs, footsteps, horns. A cacophony of sounds invades each of the people walking from one side to the other. Those people who form a block, transporting which herd.
It is a weekday. Lunch time. The sun is high up and even in the middle of the city, with its buildings reaching up to the sky, its rays can be seen and felt. Or at least that's what I imagine.
I can't feel them. I don’t feel the sun, nor the wind, not even the mixed aromas of the different food places. My body doesn’t react to anything. For me, the world has become an eternal night. People are nothing more than shadows, blurred figures that pass from one side to the other without stopping to look. I cannot hear them, nor feel them, nor even recognize them. Their faces are a featureless blur. I can barely make out if they are human or not.
My life was not always like this. Before, I could see the world as it really was: colorful, bright, bustling. I used to hate weekdays, cities, crowds. I used to hate it because I could see every face, distinguish every scent, react to every sound, grow old with those I loved. I don't hate it anymore. Now I miss it.
It all started at a Halloween party. The last one I organized, last October. I had wanted to organize one for a long time, so I was doing it, excited, for months. I would invite all my friends, buy the best decorations, make the best meals. Everything would be perfect.
But it was not. Nothing was perfect.
A few weeks before the party, while looking for decorations on eBay, I found one in particular that caught my eye. They were two hands, open, bony and chilling. The object looked quite old and that gave it even more creepy vibes. I figured it would be perfect for the party, so I bought it. When it arrived, I didn't take it out of the package until the day of the party. I did the same with all the decorations, as I didn't want anyone to see them when they came home for other things. I wanted everything to be a surprise.
When the day finally came, I began to tidy up the whole house. In the front garden, I placed several hollowed pumpkins, with lights inside to greet the guests. I also placed a life-size skeleton by the door, so that it seemed that it was welcoming everyone, as a butler.
Small garlands of bats decorated the staircase. I hang plastic spider webs in the corners and lamps. Little ghosts, black cats and witches decorated the trays, plates and tables where food and drink will be displayed. In addition, I placed some pretty creepy decorations in various places around the house with the intention of scaring some of my friends. The stuffed spiders sticking out of the bathroom mirror were one of my favorites.
When I took the palms out of their box, I was amazed at how they looked. They were even creepier in person. They were made of a white material, similar to marble, just as cold and white, but not as hard. They were so detailed that veins, tendons and bones could be easily distinguished. The nails were long and sharp, just as white as the rest of the piece. The support on which they were leaning was made of dark and shiny wood. There was no inscription anywhere. No mark, not even a scratch. It was strange to see that they were so pristine but still looked so old.
I was observing them for several minutes, in wonder, until I decided to place them on a small table, near the entrance; next to a lamp that I had decorated with cobwebs.
Guests began arriving shortly after. All my friends were there and they showed up in the most varied costumes. I'd disguised myself as a vampire, with false teeth and all. The party was incredible; We drank, we played, we laughed. Everything seemed to be going wonderfully and I felt splendid to see my friends enjoying everything I had prepared. There were even some who were spooked by the decorations I had bought and arranged specifically for that, so I was proud as well.
The night progressed and some children rang the bell to receive their sweets. Little princesses and princes, werewolves, vampires, mummies and knights; everyone went through the door and received their candy. After midnight, when all the children had returned home, our party continued.
At one point, I was talking to one of my friends. I was leaning against the back of the sofa and my eyes drifted from her face to the hands. I didn't know why, but there was something about them that had been calling me all night, like they wanted my full attention. My eyes were fixed on the white palms, on the sharp nails, on the tendons molded in that strange material. The edges of my vision started to turn black, but I didn't feel bad. For some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off those hands.
The minutes seemed to turn into hours. All notion of time became useless in my brain. I didn't blink once while looking at them. My vision became increasingly black, the light went out, and my surroundings seemed to cease to exist. Eventually even the hands turned black and I lost consciousness.
When I woke up, I was startled. There was a lot of light around me, such a contrast to the previous darkness that it made my head ache. I remember grabbing my head with both hands and closing my eyes tightly, trying to make the pain stop and the light to go out.
When I opened my eyes again, I realized that I was on a gurney. I looked around, finding one of my friends, sitting in a chair next to me.
"You passed out," he told me. His tone of voice was concerned. "We didn't know what had happened to you, it looked like you hit your head when you fell, so we called 911 and they brought you to the hospital."
I could hear his words, but their meaning eluded me slightly. Had I passed out looking at the palms? I wasn't sure what he was telling me. My friend also told me that I had been unconscious most of the day, that Halloween was over, and that visiting hours were about to finish, so he had to leave soon. After a moment, he said goodbye to me and left.
Moments later, a doctor approached me. I don't remember their face, nor their name. I don't even remember if it was a man or a woman. Everything was blurry. What I do remember is that they informed me that I had suffered a small decompensation, but that the blow had not been strong and that I would soon be able to return home.
I was in the hospital until the next morning. During the night they did more studies on me and let me go with the recommendation that I not make too much effort in the next few days.
When I returned home, most of the decorations had been removed and traces of the party cleaned up. I silently thanked my friends for doing this and made a mental note to thank them the next time I saw them.
I finished arranging the things that had been left out during the day, trying not to strain myself as the doctor had said. For some reason, I didn't get close to the hands until late at night. There was something inside me that prevented me from going to the place where they were. But eventually I had to get closer, and then my heart raced at what I saw.
The palms, once open, as if welcoming, were now closed. It seemed as if they were trying to contain something. As if they caught something and didn't want to let it go. I touched them, trying to test if they moved, because maybe one of my friends had left them that way, but they were as firm as before. It was impossible to move them. I did not understand what was happening at the time. I'm still not sure I know what's going on now, but over time I discovered that this was not just a decoration.
I tried to put them in the box they came in, but no matter how much I put them in there, they would return to their place on the table. At first I thought I was just confused, that I had only intended to put them away and then I hadn't. But as the days passed, that was not the case: I tried to put them in the box, hide them, get them out of the house... and they returned to their place. Over and over.
But that was not the only change. As the days passed, as the hands continued to slip away, I began to notice changes in myself. In my body, in my thoughts, in the way I saw and felt the world.
The first thing I felt was the sensation of being watched. No matter where I went, the feeling was always there. At home, at work, in the car. I turned over and over again, trying to find who was following me and watching, but there was never anyone. At first I thought it was just the feeling, that it was surely my imagination for everything that had happened in the last few days.
But then I began to feel a compression in my chest. As if my rib cage was being squeezed. At times it was difficult for me to breathe, and at others I felt like I was in a very small room even when I was outdoors.
I went back to the hospital, but no one could find any problems. They attributed it to stress and let me go home. But my house had become a torture, because the hands were still there; closed, as if they wanted to keep me contained, oppressed.
The darkness was what followed. With each new day, it seemed as if the sun became less bright, as if a twilight invaded everything. At first I thought it would be a sign that winter was approaching, but then I realized that even at noon, with the sun high, the world seemed dark. Everything around me began not only to darken but also to blur. Things stopped having distinguishable edges. It was as if I was looking behind a curtain of water all the time.
Once again, I headed to the hospital, believing that perhaps something was wrong with my eyesight. But again, no one could find anything. Everything was perfect. My body was perfect.
And still, I could feel everything getting worse and worse.
I started to get hungry all the time. No matter what I ate, I was never satisfied. The same thing happened with the drink. My throat felt dry the whole time I was awake, and no matter what I took, I still had that intense thirst.
Eventually, I couldn't take anything. Not food, not water. Nothing.
I also stopped being able to sleep. No matter how much I laid down, closed my eyes, the dream didn’t come. It never came. But neither did fatigue.
I knew that something beyond reason was invading me and I was sure it had to do with those damn hands, so I tried my best to get rid of them. I threw them in the trash, tried to break them, threw them across the street, from the roof. I went to the river and threw them into its depths.
But they always came back. To that little table, next to the lamp. They had not changed since the incident, they were still closed and I convinced myself that what they were containing was my own life, as if they wanted to protect it from something... or someone.
The feeling of being watched never went away. In fact, like all other symptoms, it got worse. The pressure on my chest is still there and sometimes I can swear someone is watching me. It is no longer just the feeling. When I turn around, I can see a strange shadow behind me. The shadow of a woman... or so it seems.
She watches me, she chases me. I don't know who she is, or what she wants. The sensations are strange at this point. I don't even know how much time has passed since the Halloween party, I have no idea when the days change, because for me the world is dark all the time.
I can no longer distinguish people and, as I look at the bustle of the street, standing here in the middle of it, I think about everything that has happened.
People pass me, as if they can't see me either. I don't know how they look at me, because their eyes are blurry points on an even more blurred face: they have no features, I can barely distinguish skin from hair or clothes. And she's there, behind me, watching me.
I decide to start running. I have tried this before and it has not worked, but I decide to try one more time.
I run. I run to the river, to the ravine. She follows me closely; I can feel her. Even though the whole world is blurry, she appears to be sharp, as if she is the only thing in the world that matters. I keep running until I jump into the water. I don't need to take a breath, because I’m sure that I have also stopped breathing at some point, just as I have stopped eating and sleeping.
The bottom of the river is covered with rocks and, despite hitting my head, I remain conscious. No blood comes out of the wound. I can't die. And she watches me, furious. How dare I escape from her? No one escapes from her. And that angers her even more.
I don't know how I know this. I just know. The hands continue to hold something, trapping— but perhaps they are protecting. Maybe they are protecting me. And that's what makes her so mad.
I don't know how many hours pass until I get out of the river. I'm soaked and even though it's already nighttime, I don't feel cold. As always, hunger and thirst settle in my body, but I don't even try to calm them. I know how it would end. I can't eat or drink, what's the point of trying?
I walk to my house. And she follows me. She always follows me. She seems to be more furious now. Maybe watching me challenge her in the river made it worse. I don't know and I don't want to find out either. When I get home, I go straight to the hands. They remain the same, closed. I gently touch the cool white surface. I look everywhere. She is on the other side of the door.
The hours go by and neither of us moves. I look at the hands and something whispers to me. They speak a strange language but I can still understand it:
"We have your life; it belongs to us." The whisper seems like hundreds of voices speaking at the same time. The voices of the hands. "She can't touch you, she’ll never be able to do it."
"Who is she?" I ask, but nobody answers.
I look towards the door. She is there, on the other side. She screams, more furious than ever. The door is slammed open and I see it: the darkest of the figures, the sharpest of all. Untouchable, embracing. A force impossible to stop, but she somehow cannot touch me. She screams again. I cover my ears with my hands.
She looks at the hands, perhaps realizing what is happening. I take several steps back, to get away. The voices keep whispering that I am theirs, that my life belongs to them, that they are protecting me so that she cannot touch me. And she's furious that my life should have been hers that day, at the Halloween party, when my head hit the ground.
The hands move. The movement looks like something out of a stop motion movie. Small, slowly, as if displaced from time. My heart races. For a moment I think that the hands will open, going to their original position and freeing me for her to take me. But no. The palms close even more. The pressure in my chest increases. The darkness deepens. The feeling of being trapped is greater, but she becomes even angrier. The hands continue to protect me and they don't want to let me go.
I put a hand in my chest and open my mouth like a fish out of water, trying to breathe harder. Pure survival instinct. Only when I look up and see the blurry, dark world around me do I remember that I don't need to breathe, that I won't die even if I stop.
I smile. She tries to hold the hands, make the palms open, but she can't. The whispers keep saying that my life belongs to them. And she screams that it should be hers.
A fight of wills takes place in front of my misty eyes. She wants to take me; the hands won't let go of me. She screams, the hands whisper. And my life is in between. My life that has become a specter of what it was. Am I still living in spite of everything? Can I call this life? I don’t know. I don't want to ask or think about it too much.
The darkness grows and then she screams louder than ever before. Everything turns dark and I am not sure if I have lost consciousness or just vision.
An infinite moment passes. Minutes, hours, days. Maybe years. I have no idea.
When the absolute darkness disappears, I am still at home. The hands are as always, closed. The day is dark and the world is blurry.
She is gone.
"Your life belongs to us, forever," say the whispers.
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2021.11.30 09:32 Bonus1Fact Earthquake: 2021-11-30 20:15HKT M5.3 [3.3S,151.3E] in New Ireland Region, Papua New Guinea
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2021.11.30 09:32 mrswavy Christmas shops
So I’m a student and this is my third year living in Nottingham during Christmas time but I still don’t know of any Christmas shops?? Back at home where I’m from there are pop up shops in town which are just cheap Christmas decoration shops. Do they have any like that here? I want to get some cheap tinsel and cheap Christmassy bits. Anyone know of anywhere in town or out of town (I have a car so out of town would be best so I can drive but I can also walk to town if not). Thanks everyone and happy Christmas or happy whatever it is you chose to celebrate!
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2021.11.30 09:32 atippett7 20% off Buckedup workout supplements: code fc4774
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2021.11.30 09:32 justinabroadkr The Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial in Washington D.C.
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2021.11.30 09:32 Lsufaninva The hardest working cat in Richmond
2021.11.30 09:32 kalradyali REMAAAAAAN
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2021.11.30 09:32 ZoeThomp Transgender and Aphantasia
I just discovered last night the condition of Aphantasia (not being able to visualise things in the mind) and realised how much this applied to me. Before now I had always assumed that everyone just thought in this way and had an internal monologue but as it turns out this is not the case.
This is particularly interesting to me as one of my biggest concerns regarding my transition was that I could not imagine what my future would be like post transition and that worried and made me doubt myself but now knowing this makes me feel so much more relieved.
It also explains my lack of being able to remember things from the past properly, I know they happened but I can’t recall them.
Curious to hear of any others experiences with this.
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2021.11.30 09:32 HoggyOfAustralia I secretly enjoy eating ________ OWE.
2021.11.30 09:32 Nocturnezbreako Loving the new Yuumi skin
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2021.11.30 09:32 Shockwave2309 Schon wieder so ein Post
Leute tut ma eh leid dass es schon wieder so ein Post is aber i muss meine Aggressionen auslassen bevor i wen umbring...
Mei Opa (94) hat ned geimpft werden können wegen (Vor-)erkrankungen und wir rund um ihn herum ham uns geimpft und getestet und desinfiziert und Maske getragen und alles was halt da gsunde Menschenverstand sagt dass ma machen soll um ihn zu schützen.
Trotzdem hat er irgendwie den shit bekommen und is dann 9 Tage im KH glegen und is langsam erstickt weil ihm as C de Lunge zerfressen hat.
Dann hat er endlich des Leiden hinter sich und wir dürfen ihn eh schon ned gscheid verabschieden weil Lockdown und gschlossener Sarg und alles und dann gehst vom Trauergottesdienst aus da Kirche raus und dann latschen da de Vollwixer mit Schilder ohne Maske und olles an uns vorbei und schrein nach "Freiheit" und dass es Corona eh ned gibt und wos was i wos olles...
Am liebsten hätt i jeden einzelnen von denen in den Sarg reingstopft der nur a paar Meter weiter war... Aber des hätt mein Opa auch ned wieder gebracht.
Es fickt mi so sehr an mit diese gschissenen Volltrotteln!!! Wieso kann ma gegen den Dreck der Menschheit nix tun? Jedes einzelne Gramm weed wird strengstens geahndet obwohls eher hilft als dass es jemanden gefährdet und de trotteln bringen indirekt und vielleicht sogar direkt leute um und denen passiert nix.
Sorry fürn rant aber des hat mal rausmüssen...
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2021.11.30 09:32 abnt61 Gravis Finance x Trade Coin Chien Luoc Community x Tienthuattoan Capital Partnership
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2021.11.30 09:32 Nicknsfw18 PIC
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2021.11.30 09:32 printable_rpg "Dining Hall " [33x62] [Battlemap] [OC]
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2021.11.30 09:32 atankfromnazis do it for obama
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2021.11.30 09:32 FloppyOxygen Did someone rule out Kleiman (Wright's dead friend) as the potential Satoshi?
I don't believe for one bit that Wright himself is Satoshi but I haven't heard much about his friend Kleiman who died in which Wright desperately tried to obtain wallet.dat files from his personal belongings through his relative. From what I remember Kleiman's death was around the time Satoshi disappeared?
Wright does seem to have been an early enthusiast and does seem to have reason to believe he can play it off as Satoshi, makes me a little more suspicious if Kleiman could have been satoshi and Wright knew that.
See more about Kleiman here: https://youtu.be/SJpj0zj35zQ
Edit: If you think about it Wright also could have gotten access to emails/conversations or would have been more closely involved in such conversations from Dave Kleiman's belongings, this would allow him to play off as Satoshi to Gavin in order to convince him.
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2021.11.30 09:32 3bpairs Lung cancer is more deadly in poorer nations! Check out our article below to read more.
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2021.11.30 09:32 GregBeechamStudio Dominion, me, oil on linen, 2021
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