I don't know why I'm here. I mean, I do. I'm nervous, I guess. Anxious. I don't sleep that well. And my hands... they're fine now. It's like when you have a problem with your car and you go to a mechanic and it's not doing it anymore. Not that you're a mechanic. I guess a lot of people must come here worried about the bomb. Is that true? It's a common nightmare, people say. I read it in a magazine. My mother always told me that it wasn't polite to talk about yourself. She passed away recently. I guess I already said that.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1352 | 2018-02-05 02:52:18 | 87.63 | 99% |
| 248 | 2017-12-16 15:08:29 | 81.56 | 99% |
| 210 | 2017-11-09 00:34:41 | 77.03 | 98% |